


The Hymn of Barry Allen

by MelodramaticMrTails



Category: DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Ableism, Amputation, Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pregnancy, Transphobia, polyamorous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodramaticMrTails/pseuds/MelodramaticMrTails
Summary: A series of snapshots defining Barry's presence in other people's lives.
Relationships: Barry Allen/August Heart, Barry Allen/Eobard Thawne, Barry Allen/Iris West, Barry Allen/Mick Rory/Leonard Snart
Comments: 30
Kudos: 59





	1. august heart

August rifles through a few more documents, trying to compare notes and information without a ton to go off of. Everything's kept neat and orderly, sure, but none of it seems to be the particular information he needs; just close enough to be painfully annoying. He feels like he's so close to understanding something but someone keeps lopping off tabs of his puzzle pieces. 

"Officer Heart?" 

August jumps, more than he would have liked to. He swiftly closes his brother's file and looks up at- the new CSI, of course. For as much as he's cute and obviously good at his job and even excited for it, August isn't fully sure how a ditz like him manages sometimes. He's yet to see the man on time once nor is he fully sure why he's back at the CCPD at fuck all in the night. At least August is technically on shift. It's been a quiet night. 

"CSI Allen," August replies. "What can I do for you?" Allen gives him a curious look. 

"I work here?" he answers. August bristles. 

"As do I," he assures sharply.

"You've been transferred to the forensic lab?" Allen asks, a bit amused. August glances around wearily. "Change of heart?" 

"Cute," August replies dryly. "I meant- I meant this is still the CCPD building, CSI. Is it normal for you to question superior officers?" He attempts to pick up his brother's file again but Allen is quick, suddenly putting his hand down over top of it to stop him. 

"You're not my superior," Allen says with a smile. "I don't work for CCPD. I also don't see how asking why you're in my lab at one in the morning is a problem if you aren't doing anything." 

"I can give you a problem if that's what you're looking for, CSI," August warns. He tries to yank the folder free but Allen isn't budging. "Have you ever been arrested in your own lab?" 

"I think you're underestimating how many problems I can give _you_ , Officer Heart," Allen replies, still maintaining his weirdly friendly exterior even if he isn't strictly smiling anymore. "Last time I checked, removing evidence from a lab in the middle of a case is tampering and a misdemeanor _at least_." 

"I'm not removing evidence," August snaps back, his own patience quickly deteriorating. " _I_ brought this in here." Allen glances down at the file folder, reads the name then the cold case tag. He slowly takes his hand away and August snatches the folder away to tuck safely under an arm. 

"I'm sorry," Allen says. "Ironically, I haven't exactly had the best experiences with cops before. I didn't mean to offend you, Officer Heart." 

"Think you might have picked the wrong occupation, then," August replies. Allen huffs a laugh but his demeanor softens back to its typical nonthreatening manner. Obviously their new CSI has more bite than he shows. August sighs. "It's fine. I shouldn't have been in here without telling anyone. And for the record, I guess I'm glad to know you'd stand up for what's right even if the situation isn't charming." 

Allen smiles at him. 

"Could we- do this again?" he asks, gesturing between the two of them. August gives him a questioning look. "Good evening, Officer Heart. Is there something I could help you with at this hour?" 

He can't help it; August laughs. He knows to trust his gut and yeah, his gut says good things about Allen but August has always been one to back that up with solid proof, too. This is about all the proof he needs to get the idea that Allen really is a good guy. A dork, for sure, but just a cute, funny, good man. 

"Good evening, CSI," August answers and he shakes his head minutely. "I was just on my way out, actually. I'm sorry to intrude on your lab without warning like this." 

"Are you sure? I might be able to help?" Allen offers. He knows what the case file is now; August's brother's death isn't exactly a secret around here. Still, he hesitates a moment before finally handing the case file over. Allen actually knows what he's doing, after all, and August has to admit, having someone skilled who _doesn't_ berate him for not letting this go giving this a second look for him sounds nice. Allen flips through the pages to give everything a once over before going back and examining some bits more closely. 

After a moment, he just makes a quiet 'huh' of interest. There's no way he's already found something August missed after looking over these files countless times. There's no way he's _that_ good. 

"'Huh' what?' August asks suspiciously. Allen looks back up to him for a moment then to the files again. 

"Oh, uh," he murmurs. "Well. See these marks here?" Allen turns the folder to show August and August jerks to look away, nausea settling over his stomach in an instant. He knows the pictures are in there, of course, he's seen them more times than he's ever wanted to, but they still make him ill. Allen hastily yanks the folder away, nearly throwing the pages all over the place. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." 

"No, no," August says quickly, trying to keep his lunch down. "It's fine. What- what about the marks?" Allen doesn't try to show him again, in fact standing quite opposite August now to limit the view of the documents. He clears his throat. 

"It's, uh, it's just that these are very unique markings," Allen explains. "They're incredibly uniform both in spacing and depth. Something specific had to have made these but nothing in here matches and in the photo, they look fresh." August doesn't see what that has to do with anything. Surely something as small as that wouldn't be relevant in who killed his brother, right? But, then again, maybe that's why he hasn't be finding anything. 

"You think they could be important?" he asks. 

"I dunno," Allen murmurs. "Maybe. You wouldn't have remembered where he got them, would you?" August shakes his head. 

"No. Jorge was a cop. He got scratched up a lot. I don't even think he could have told you," he admits. Allen makes an unsatisfied noise and flips through some more pages. 

"Would you mind if I looked into this?" he asks. 

"My brother's cold case?" August repeats. "You want to officially look into it again?" 

"Not _officially_ ," Allen assures. "If I _officially_ anything else Singh doesn't explicitly tell me to work on he might actually murder me with his own bare hands. But if I happen to have time now and again or- find something relevant while working on other cases-" he trails off. "With your permission, of course. I understand if you just want to let this go." 

"That's what everyone keeps telling me to do," August says quietly. "Just forget about it so I can start healing or whatever. I just- it was months ago now but it still feels fresh sometimes." 

"Months isn't very long," Allen replies, giving him a sympathetic look. August clears his throat. 

"But yeah, please. If you want to look into it, knock yourself out," he agrees. "I'd actually really appreciate it. I've been hitting dead wall after dead wall."

"There's not a lot here," Allen confesses. "Someone really botched this. I'm sorry. I'll do what I can, though." That would probably be the other reason August can't quite put the pieces together. Some things look weird and not quite right but he never would have assumed someone had so horribly done their job that the CSI would even have trouble with it. He knows Singh won't give him the names of the people involved in the case but maybe he'll give them to Allen.

"Why are you doing this?" August asks, suddenly suspicious. Allen doesn't seem to notice much, too busy looking through the documents more and more. "I don't even think we've officially met before today. Did Singh put you up to this to get me off his back?" Allen finally looks at him again. He worries his lip briefly before closing Jorge's file and putting it back on his desk. 

"If I show you something, promise you won't think I'm crazy?" Allen asks. 

"Definitely not promising that," August replies. "I've seen too much weird shit for that. But show me anyways." Allen laughs but he nods in agreement. He pulls out a box from under his desk and sets it down on top with a heavy thud. The worn name on the front reads 'Nora Allen'. 

"My mother's murder case," Allen explains. "Well, it's in here somewhere. Everything else is evidence, theories, more questions, that I've collected over the- _years_ now." 

"I- I don't think you're crazy for trying to solve your mother's murder, Allen," August promises. 

"No," Allen says matter-of-factly. "Most people don't. Most people think I'm crazy because after twenty years I still insist a man moving faster than the eye can see, dressed in yellow and shrouded in red lightning killed her and framed my father." August looks at him oddly. "Yeah. Exactly." 

"No," August repeats back. "You mean like a meta?" 

"A- meta?" Allen asks. 

"A meta human? They're- they're these people who supposedly have these 'meta' genes that give them fantastical powers?" August explains. Allen looks perplexed. "I guess they're still not exactly well researched, they're pretty new. Or, new to come out, at least. Ever since Superman over on the east coast has been making a fuss, more and more people have been braving showing themselves." 

"And one of these 'metas' could move like that? With lightning?" Allen confirms. 

"I, uh, I mean, I'm not an expert, Allen," August admits awkwardly. "I just think they're interesting but- I don't see why not?" Allen takes his phone out and begins rapidly typing. He regrets saying anything now, realizing exactly how bizarre it sounds. Is this what he sounds like to people telling him to drop his brother's case? After a few moments, Allen glances up briefly and realises August is still here. 

"Oh, sorry," he says quickly- again. "I'm going to try to look into your brother's case as much as I can, okay? I'll let you know if I find anything, Officer Heart." 

"Thank you," August says. "Really, Allen. This- means a lot to me. I doubt I can help you with yours but if you need anything, let me know?" 

"No, no," Allen murmurs dismissively. "You've given me an interesting theory to follow up on. Thank you." What a weird little guy. 

"Okay," August says in amusement. "I should get back to my desk. Uh, have a good night, CSI Allen." 

"Barry," Barry says, looking at his phone again.

"August," August replies. 

"Goodnight, August," Barry says. 

X

August looks around curiously as he tries to find where someone could have hidden out around here. It's a pretty dense urban areas so there's plenty of places but not near enough to mask the sound of a gunshot. Someone should have heard something but so far, they haven't been able to pull anything out of any witnesses. 

"Heart," Singh says as he approaches. August gets back to his feet. 

"Captain," he replies. 

"Where's the CSI?" Singh asks, bordering on exasperation. August coughs nervously. Barry still isn't here. 

"Well he got stuck in traffic," he assures. "He should be here soon. You know how it is, gets a little cold, car won't start, leave a couple minutes late and you're suddenly in rush." August gives a shrug and Singh looks thoroughly unimpressed with his lie. 

"Barry's in traffic?" he repeats back. "Barry who doesn't drive, Heart?" 

"Wait, Barry doesn't drive?" August asks. "You're telling me he walks everywhere with his gear and you still ask why he's late?" 

"Star Labs pays for his transport," Singh informs impatiently.

"Same question; he takes a taxi everywhere and you ask why he's late?" August asks. Singh puts his hands on his hips mildly, giving August a deeply unamused look. 

"Why are you stalling for Barry?" he asks. 

"Stalling? I'm not- oh dios mio, there he is. I honestly thought you were gonna demote me there for a second," August says in relief. Singh, to his benefit, cracks something of a humorous smirk. Barry hurriedly comes to join them, twisting his long hair in his hand and pinning it to his head in a bun out of the way. 

"Sorry I'm late," he says in his typical greeting, already pulling gloves on. 

"Again," Singh notes. "What's the excuse this time? Helping a little old lady onto the subway?" 

"Are you suggesting I shouldn't help little old ladies?" Barry asks back. Singh shakes his head. 

"I'd say I'm asking you to be on time but I've learned there's no point," he replies. "Get to work. Now." 

"Working. Now," Barry assures. Singh wanders off again while Barry, true to his word, immediately starts his business. He might always be late but August can say for a fact it's not out of not wanting to be here. Honestly, he couldn't really say _why_ Barry is always late. 

"We have a few places a shot could have come from," August explains as Barry starts his science- _stuff_. "Lady who found him moved the body, though, apparently thought he was still alive but paramedics called him DOA." 

"Did the paramedics move him?" Barry asks. 

"Wouldn't assume so but you can ask," August assures, nodding his head over to where they and another officer are trying to calm the woman down. Barry only looks up minutely. 

"Not yet," he murmurs. "I want to finish looking at this." 

"Tango 3; Golf 4, keep the paramedics here, Baker 1 wants to talk to them," August radios and receives an acknowledging 'ten four' in response. "Other than that, crime scene's been clean since we got here." Allen nods distractedly as he continues his work. He does this, that, and the other thing and August just watches on in interest. Eventually Barry seems to realise he's being watched, stops, and glances up at August questioningly. August grins at him and he goes back to work.

"Singh assigned you to be my handler, then?" Barry asks. 

"Not in those words but yeah," August answers. "Guess he saw 'xactly how close we were gettin'. Maybe he thought me bein' here would make you eager to see me 'n show up on time." Barry laughs. 

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," he agrees. 

"Do you really not drive?" August asks. "D'ya need help findin' a car or somethin'? I could give you a hand." 

"Oh, I don't have a license," Barry says. "Thanks though."

"You don't have a license?" August repeats in awe. " _How_?" 

"Well, in my early teens I was diagnosed with severe PTSD and, according to my psychiatrists at the time, and I quote, 'one of the worst cases of generalized anxiety she's ever seen'," Barry tells him almost nonchalantly. August truly couldn't imagine just freely telling _anyone_ something like that. "Plus with the meds they put me on for both of those, needless to say no one was eager to put me behind the wheel of a car." 

"And you never learned since?" August asks. Barry shakes his head. 

"Never really needed to," he assures. "I get around. Got my permit a few years ago but they took it away from me so I took that as a sign not to do that anymore." 

"The more I learn about you, the funnier you get, Allen," August says in amusement. Barry laughs in return. "Well, if you ever need a ride somewhere, just lemme know. I don't mind." 

"I appreciate it but I really get around fine," Barry promises. 

"So you don't ever need a ride to say dinner? Or a movie?" he asks coyly. 

"No," Barry replies stupidly. His obliviousness is truly amazing sometimes. August would say it's because he's busy at the moment but he knows what's not the case. Barry is about as dense as a few brick walls back to back. It would be charming if August wasn't kind of getting frustrated by it. 

"I was askin' you on a date, Barry," August says. Barry looks up at him again and blinks. "Like, a romantic date? Not a friend date. You're into guys, right?" 

"Oh," Barry says and he turns back to his corpse again. He doesn't say anything else for a little while and August assumes he just got distracted by his work again. Eventually though, he says, "yeah, okay. We can go on a date. I'd like that." He smiles at up at him. It was really that easy, huh. Go figure. 

"Me too," August agrees, pleasantly. He leaves Barry alone to work so Singh doesn't do an attempted murder on both of them. 

X

"It's really comin' down hard out there," August murmurs, looking out the precinct window to the storm yowling outside. It came in without warning and it's been real nasty so far. Lightning makes Barry anxious as it is and this much of it, he's been antsy all night. 

"I'm never going to get a cab in this weather," he comments unhappily. Unsurprisingly, he just wants to go home and lock himself up until the storm passes but work is work and Barry is an adult that can deal with a little lightning so of course he stayed his shift. August elbows him teasingly, trying to calm him down. 

"If you wanna ride, you can just ask," he assures. Barry is unamused. 

"On your motorcycle in this weather?" he says. "Thanks, August, but I'd rather _walk_."

"Ouch," August says in dramatic fashion, clutching his chest. Barry huffs a stressed laugh. It's gone in an instant when a bolt of lightning strikes down right outside the building, scorching the sidewalk in its wake. Barry bolts away from the window. 

"Anyone ever tell you two not to stand near metal frames in a lightning storm?" Singh asks sarcastically. Barry shudders, pulling his hands over his head anxiously and breathing. Singh gives him a sympathetic look. "You two need a ride? In a _car_?" 

" _Please_ ," Barry agrees. 

"I'm going to stick it out here," August promises. "If anything happens, I'd rather be at hand. This lightning's been looking bad." 

"Alright," Singh agrees. "There's always the cot in the lounge." August nods in agreement. He's had more than his fair share of naps in it before. And to no one else's business, one occasion of definitely not a nap with Barry. 

"I got to go grab something from my lab," Barry says. "I'll be right back. Thank you, Singh." He already seems relieved just at the idea of getting out of this wide open building and somewhere more comfortable. August would go with him but he knows Barry's just going to go home and pass out to sleep the storm through. If this lightning starts fires or god forbid _hits_ someone, August wants to be able to be around to help even if he's not on call. 

Barry heads upstairs and Singh gives August a questioning look. 

"How are things going, anyways?" he asks. "With Barry, I mean." 

"If you're asking if he's late to dates, too, yeah," August jokes. "It's going good. He's a good guy, Captain. Makes me want to be a better man, too." 

"You are a good man, Heart," Singh promises, giving him a pat on the shoulder. August nods. 

"I know," he agrees. "It's just Barry is-" 

A crack. 

August instinctively grabs Singh, yanking him away from the windows as they all crack under the pressure, barely clinging to their shatter resist film. Then, in an instant, he's running for Barry. The power flickers off then the generator kicks in before that too goes out. It's pitch black but the lightning outside steers August up the stairs to Barry's lab. That definitely hit the building. He nearly kicks the door down to realise it's done more than hit the building. 

It hit _Barry_. 

"Barry!" August shouts, rushing to his side. He grabs him and jerks away as he's shocked by the touch. August looks at his hands, his fingertips tingling and the chemicals on them burning through his skin. That he can ignore. Urgently, he grabs the chemical kit and doses Barry in the neutralizer before whatever's spilled on him can do anymore damage. He coats his hands in it only as an after thought. 

" _Shit_ , Barry," Singh curses. "I need paramedics up here immediately! We have a man struck by lightning with possible chemical burns! August, get away from him!" 

August ignores that fully and completely. Barry's heart has stopped, not that unusual with a lightning strike. He starts chest compressions and close behind, resuscitation. Singh doesn't tell him off again. August keeps it up until the actual paramedics arrive and take over. They try to tend to him but he keeps pushing them off until Singh finally forces him to sit still and breathe. The chemicals, thankfully, don't seem to be anything serious; mostly just skin irritation. He'll live. 

Everything begins passing in a blur. They put Barry in an ambulance, still unconscious, and Singh tells August to go with him, of course. Fractal like patterns begin appearing on August's hands, stretching up his forearms and fading off. Lightning like that shouldn't have lingered in Barry but August can't explain a shock from touching him like that any other way. The scars are faint; they'll fade quickly. 

Unlike the massive one spreading out from Barry's chest and stretching out across his body. August just sits and watches as they treat him, slowly but surely wandering off a little at a time as he stabilizes. Eventually they're left alone, Barry hooked up to a dozen different machines but alive. In the end, August supposes his fear in lightning was more than valid, wasn't it? It was the only thing August knows for sure Barry was afraid of; he's so stupidly fearless in the face of anything else. August tries to be a little more like that as he's forced to wait for a change in condition. 

It's harder to hold onto that fearlessness when Barry crashes suddenly. His heart flat lines, the power in the room shorts out, and a whole team of doctors and nurses swarm in on him. They do everything they can to get his heart beating again and succeed eventually. Even not knowing all their codes, August can tell there's something wrong. 

No one will tell him anything. 

August doesn't leave the hospital for three days. Barry doesn't wake up and multiple times a day, his heart flat lines without warning. They can't figure out why or why the paddles don't work on him. He always recovers but August is dreading the time he doesn't. They eventually give him a sedative to _slow_ his heart and it works. For a while. It wears off so fast, they have to keep giving him more and more so he doesn't keep crashing. August hears the doctors discussing what a 'phenomenon' Barry is and try to decide if it's better to overdose him on sedatives or let him keep crashing. 

He's not sure which is better but he knows which one they decide when they detach him from the heart monitor. 

August almost has a fit when Singh finally makes him go home. He can't sleep, he can't eat, he can barely shower, he's so afraid of Singh calling to tell him Barry has passed. The call never comes though and as soon as Singh will let him, he returns to the hospital. 

There's two people there, in civvies, poking and prodding Barry when August does return. A man and woman, both with long hair, both August almost hurls out a several story window when he finds them. They're from Star Labs they say, they're here to help Barry they say. August's gut doesn't trust it but Singh makes him leave again so they can work. 

Barry doesn't have a next of kin, his parents are both dead and his adoptive dad is unreachable. Star Labs, the company Barry actually works for, has all the proper paperwork to make his medical decisions. August wants to argue and fight and Singh tells him he's more than welcome to try but Star Labs has the paper, the lawyers, and the money. August only has his stubbornness. But no, for the record, Singh doesn't like this either. The two lab monkeys fit Barry with a pacemaker and move him to a private room to have his coma in peace. At least they pay for his hospital bills. 

August doesn't see them again but they inform the hospital that he's always an allowed visitor. He doesn't know them and they don't know him and he wants to keep it that way. 

Singh gives him a few weeks off to recover. Barry still doesn't wake. August returns to work, visiting Barry as often as he can around everything else. Weeks turn to months and Barry shows no change or improvement. He's not getting _worse_ , the doctors promise, they just can't find any reason he should still be in a coma. Partially because they can't give him a brain scan without blacking out part of the hospital. 

Which they also can't explain. 

August holds Barry's hand and a rosary and for the first time in a very, very long time, he prays. Barry's such a _good_ man. He doesn't deserve this and August would do _anything_ to give him better. 

Anything.


	2. iris west

Iris peers around carefully, making sure no one's in sight, then quietly hurries to the edge of the crime scene. She doesn't pass the tape, of course, she doesn't want to contaminate anything, but she wants to get close enough to talk. 

"CSI Allen?" she calls. Allen lifts his head from his work curiously and looks around before spotting her. He looks around further for the officers who _should_ have been keeping her at bay but they're all either distracted or busy. "Can I have a comment, CSI Allen?" Allen huffs a small laugh as he gets to his feet and approaches the tape. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't talk to the press," he says. "Officer Heart over there can give you the contact information for the CCPD's personal rep, though." 

"How about a word with a concerned citizen? _Off_ the book?" Iris tempts, pointedly closing her notebook. He shakes his head in amusement. 

"That would still be a good way to lose my job," Allen assures. "And get sued. You really shouldn't be over here-?"

"Iris," she introduces herself, holding her hand out. "Iris West of the Central Citizen." Allen looks at her hand then raises his own, gloved and covered in blood. Iris withdraws her hand and he nods in amusement like that's the correct choice. 

"This is an active crime scene, Ms. West," Allen says. It actually catches Iris off guard. _Ms_. She hasn't been transitioning all that long and despite going out of her way to always wear skirts and heels and keep her hair long, people frequently, ' _accidentally_ ' get it wrong. People who know better than Allen, a man she's never spoken to directly, know. He doesn't even think about it or hesitate and reconsider; he just seems to- understand? It leaves her a bit speechless for a moment. She clears her throat.

"You don't think the people of this city deserve to know what's going on?" she insists pointedly. 

"I do," Allen promises. "Which is why Officer Heart can give you the number of someone who can talk to you about it." She gets it, she really does, and she doesn't want him to get in trouble for saying something to her, but she has to try anyways. Journalism doesn't get done if everyone is as tight lipped and rule following as Allen is. "August!" 

Iris glances over her shoulder as one of the cops looks at them, realises Iris shouldn't be over here, then hurriedly rushes over. 

"Aie, how'd you get over here?" Heart asks swiftly. "Dammit, where are the perimeter guys? This is a crime scene, you can't be over here." 

"It's okay, August," Allen promises. "She's a journalist. I thought Ms. West might have seen something relevant. Could you give her CCPD's rep's contact information please." He reaffirms the fact that she's a _she_ so easily and effortlessly, Heart doesn't even question it, either. What a strange man. Heart doesn't, however, look convinced of the story Allen pitches him even if he doesn't argue. He takes his wallet out and hands her a card which she takes even if she already has this information. 

"Appreciated," Iris hums. "I don't suppose I could get a comment from you?"

"The look Barry's giving me says I need to escort you as far away from here as soon as possible before all three of us catch hot water," Heart assures. "Come with me, please, Ms. West." 

"Maybe next time, CSI?" Iris asks. Allen laughs. 

"Maybe," he agrees but it's pretty clear he has no plans on doing that. Still, Iris is pretty good at needling until plans change. Allen is cute and sweet and nice. She hopes she'll get to work with him more. Maybe even 'officially'.

X

While Iris definitely hadn't come over here because of anything that has happened, she's always prepared to take a few statements and quickly hurries over to the commotion to see what's going on. A quick peak around makes it clear there's been some kind of accident or, at the very least, something that looks like an accident. She spots detective Heart overseeing things and, surprisingly enough, CSI Allen working the scene. Damn, she must have gotten here too late. 

Carefully, she makes her way through the crowd and skillfully past the cops still trying to tape everything off. Allen spots her out the corner of his eye and jumps, grabbing his chest in surprise. 

"Hello again," Iris greets with a smile. 

"Ms. West," Allen replies, sighing deeply. "Give me a heart attack, will you. You _definitely_ shouldn't be back here." 

"I'll leave for a comment," she promises, watching as he begins to get to work anyways. He smiles at her in amusement. 

"Or I can just call August over," he replies. 

"Or you could do that, yeah," Iris says back. She and August haven't quite seen eye to eye even if he's friendly enough and seems to legitimately want to do his job right. "What if I didn't want a comment about the crime scene?" Allen looks at her curiously, takes a moment to look back to make sure no one's realised she's here yet, then looks back again. 

"What do you want a comment on, then?" he asks suspiciously. 

"You?" she replies sheepishly, pointedly putting her notepad away. He looks even more confused, pointing to himself in confusion. "I haven't seen you in months, Allen. What happened to your legs?" Allen jerks and Iris realises a second too late how awful that sounded. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me. I just- you've been gone nearly a year and now you- it's a big change, I just-" 

"It's okay," Allen says quickly, letting out a small, stressed laugh. "I, uh, I was in a coma for a while. Well, eight months actually. I kind of got hit by lightning?" 

" _Lightning_?" Iris repeats back. " _God_."

"Yeah," Allen murmurs. He looks around again before gingerly lifting his shirt to show her the lichtenberg scar on his chest. It's absolutely massive, yeah, but that loses her interest pretty fast. A, _he's so fucking hot holy shit_. Iris was already seriously attracted to him _in_ his clothes but holy shit suddenly being given an entire fucking view of his stomach and chest nearly stops her heart. B, those are top surgery scars. Even under the matted scar tissue of where he was _hit by lightning_ , she can make out the very distinct lines of where he had his previous surgery. 

He's trans, too. 

"Are you okay?" Iris asks quietly. Allen nods and drops his shirt again. 

"Better than ever, actually," he assures with a smile. "Minus the legs, I guess." Allen shakes one of his new prostheses. Iris gives him a small frown in reply.

"They look nice?" she offers awkwardly and Allen laughs. "So the lightning-?" 

"Oh, no. This was, shockingly, a different incident," Allen says and he almost sounds _amused_. "I-" he stops suddenly and his entire mood seems to plummet. "I actually don't want to talk about this right now, sorry." 

"Oh god, yeah, no, I understand," she promises swiftly. "I'm so sorry. Absolutely none of my business. I'm just glad you're okay and back doing what you love." Allen looks down at the dead body and Iris takes a second to take another step back. He looks back at her. She's really putting her foot in her mouth today. 

"It's okay," Allen assures. "I get it. You're a journalist for a reason, right?" 

"Yeah," Iris murmurs. "Because my natural curiosity gets me in more trouble than it's worth sometimes." Allen laughs and Iris huffs an amused sound in return. He looks down at the cops again and she hesitates. 

"I do need to work," he says. "And you really shouldn't be over here. The entire alley is-" 

"Active crime scene, I know, I'm going," Iris promises. She watches him take his tainted gloves off but before he puts a new pair on, he gives her a questioning look as to why she hasn't moved yet. "Uh, Allen," she says. 

"Something wrong?" he asks, looking down at the body like she's noticed something.

"No," Iris says. "Do you want to maybe- get some coffee sometime?" 

"I don't drink coffee," Allen replies. "Thanks, though." Yeah, okay, she definitely deserves that. Ouch. Iris nods quietly and she hikes her bag up onto her shoulder better. 

"Sorry for taking up your time, CSI," she says. "Good luck." Allen looks perplexed a moment. As she's turning to walk away, though, he stops her. 

"Wait, Ms. West," he says. "I, uh, _don't_ drink coffee but I know this cafe with really good smoothies? And the _best_ bread. I could- show you some time?" Iris smiles and she nods. 

"Yeah," she agrees. "Yeah, I'd like that." 

"Oi! _Iris_!" August yells. They both look down the alley at him suddenly heading for them. 

"Whoops," Iris murmurs. "Caught red handed again." 

"You should really get better at that," Allen says teasingly. He takes one of his business cards out of his pocket and she watches him write on the back. 

"Are you serious, Iris?" August insists. "You're _tryin'_ ta get me fired, I fuckin' _swear_." Iris gives him the biggest puppy dog eyes she can muster. "Nope. Absolutely not. You're leavin' right now. Let's go." 

"Alright, alright," she says. Allen hands her his card with a grin and she really doesn't mind being escorted away after that. "Hey, watch the hands." 

"Hey, watch my _crime scene_ ," August replies, leading her by the upper arm. He's not mean about it and, truth be told, they're good enough friends by now that this isn't 'cop manhandles civilian' lawsuit means. She just likes teasing him. Once they're on the other side of the tape, he lets her go and she smiles at him. 

"Care to make a comment?" she asks. August will at least play ball with her now and again- though definitely not now that she's tread all over his scene. 

"Yeah, actually," August retorts. "Barry _just_ got back, 'ight? We're tryin' ta ease him back into things but obviously he wants ta go a mile a minute gettin' back to his life. I don't need you causin' problems for him in the meantime, got it?" 

"Alright," Iris agrees fleetingly. Honestly, Allen seems more than fine. Truth be told, he really seems to have been honest when he said he's better than ever. "I'll go find some other detectives and their little CSIs to bother."

" _Thank you_ ," August replies exasperatedly. Iris grins at him as she walks off, looking down at the card Allen had given her. It's his business card, of course, with his name printed neatly on the front with his Star Labs contact information and on the back, he's written his, assumedly, personal phone number. Even if this is just a friend thing, and she really can't tell with Allen or if he's strictly gay for that matter, she likes him and it would be nice to have another trans friend. 

She hums happily to herself. 

X

Spotting Allen, Iris immediately perks up. She grabs her bag and quickly hurries over to his side, sneaking up on him and giving him a pat on the arm. He doesn't jump this time, looking away from the graffiti he was staring at to look at her curiously then looking back again. Iris gives him a questioning look before looking up at the bright yellow bolt on the wall. 

"Uh, how about that comment?" Iris asks. 

"Oh, I'm not working- this," Allen murmurs. "Not really a crime scene, you know?" 

"Well, how about a comment from just regular Barry Allen, then? Will that still get you sued?" she asks. Allen laughs and he shakes his head. 

"No, I guess not," he agrees. "Just- no name, okay? Star Labs would rip me for it." Iris nods eagerly, pulling her pen and paper out _finally_. Even if it's not about a case or a crime scene or whatever, she's been dying to get to ask him some questions. 

"No name, okay. That I can do," she promises. "So, what do you think of Central City getting its very own vigilante?" He stares at the graffiti for several silent seconds and she looks up at him softly. He really seems out of it today.

"I think- I think this city deserves someone to care about it," he says. "That it's been a long time since anyone has and if this vigilante can spark people into caring about each other again- that would be nice, wouldn't it? Maybe a little too hopeful, but nice." 

"So you're _for_ the vigilante?" Iris confirms. Allen looks at her and he nods. 

"Yeah, I am. I've seen how the law works, Ms. West-" he begins. 

"Iris," she assures. He smiles. 

"Iris," he corrects. "And- I believe if everything works as it should, the right people pay for the things they've done but- it's naīve to think things always go the way they should. Iron Heights is one of the most corrupt prisons in the United States. Worse than _Arkham_ _Asylum_. Cold cases pile up faster and faster every day. I can name on my hand the number of cops I'm only _pretty_ sure aren't corrupt anymore." 

"And you think this vigilante can help?" she asks. 

"I don't know," Allen murmurs. "I hope so. I don't think it's easy what he's doing or that it was an easy decision to make or that it's ever _going_ to be easy but- if the opportunity to try exists, we all have to take it, right? We all have to make that effort to make the world a better place every chance we get?" Iris gives him a solemn little smile and she nods in agreement.

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, you're right, Allen." 

"Barry," he says. 

"Barry," she replies. "Well Barry, thank you for your comment." 

"Of course," Barry murmurs and he goes back to staring at the graffiti again. Their new vigilante always comes back to clean it up, funnily enough, so it makes sense he'd want to come look at it before it's gone again. 

"I was thinking of calling them The Flash?" Iris says. "Sort of got my foot in the door writing about them first and all. Perfect place to help give them a good name." 

"Flash," Barry repeats. He smiles at her with a nod. "I like it." Iris grins back, taking a moment to look at the graffiti with him. She takes out her wallet and plucks the card he gave her out, handing it to him. It takes him a moment to realise what it is before he frowns in obvious disappointment. 

"The number you gave me doesn't work," she murmurs. While she had initially taken it as offense, she knows Barry can be scatterbrained more often than not. This reaction only cements the fact that he definitely didn't mean to do it. He looks perplexed before he covers his eyes with his hand. 

"The lightning destroyed my phone," he moans. "August got me a new number. _That's_ why you haven't called." Iris laughs. 

"Well if you're not busy now-?" she suggests. Barry hesitates a moment. 

"I- no, I'm not busy," he agrees with a smile. "It's a bit of a walk, though. Do you mind?" 

"I don't mind," Iris promises. She grins as they walk side by side, idly chit chatting on their way to the cafe. If she learns anything today, it's that Barry is such a _good_ man. 

X 

"Iris!" Barry yelps, rushing into her room. Iris peeks her head up minutely and smiles at him as she comes to see her. August isn't far behind, looking a lot more stupid in his guest scrubs than Barry does. He holds back while Barry urgently looks her over for what's happened. Iris can't help but laugh a little as he comes to look at the residual limb of her arm. He frowns at her so deeply, it hurts her that it hurts him and she stops laughing.

She, honestly, isn't that bothered by this.

"We kind of match now?" Iris murmurs softly. Barry holds her arm so tenderly and so carefully, she'd think he did it himself.

"I'm so sorry, Iris," he says. "I came as soon as I heard. I'm _so_ sorry." 

"There was nothing you could have done, Barry," Iris promises. "It's _okay_. It was stupid of me to try to go out there like that and I have to deal with the consequences. They would have been a lot worse if Flash hadn't shown up." Barry buries his face in her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry," he repeats. "I'm so sorry." 

"Clive Yorkin has been apprehended and neutralized," August promises. "He won't be hurting anyone else for a very long time. I wish we could have done something before you got hurt." 

"Like I said, it was my own fault for trying to get involved," Iris assures. She knows how to take responsibility for her own actions. "If the opportunity exists, we have to take it, right?" August smiles solemnly. 

"No," Barry murmurs into her skin. "No, not like that. Not _you_. Not-" Iris reaches over to rub his back softly before urging him to lift his head to look at her. 

"Me, too," she says. "Like this if that's what it calls for. We don't have to be the Flash to make a difference, Barry. You showed me that. You made me _believe_ that. I could help so I did, plain and simple." Barry's lip quivers. Iris sits up to kiss him softly and he reaches to take her face in both hands and sadly press their foreheads together. 

"I'm sorry," he says again and again. "Iris, I'm so sorry." 

"Stop apologizing," Iris replies, gently stroking the back of one of his hands. "I'm okay. I'm alive. You're here and Star Labs is taking good care of me. Everything has happened exactly how it was supposed to happen, okay? I need _you_ to believe that." 

"If this is how things were supposed to happen, I don't like it," Barry murmurs. "I don't want it." Iris laughs. 

"I know, sweetheart. But there's no changing it," she assures. "And I know you'll be there with me through this." He nods eagerly, leaning in to kiss her again. 

"Do you need anything now?" August asks. "They should be letting you leave the clean room soon. Can't find anymore traces of _whatever_ it was he did to your arm in the rest of you." 

"Food would be great," Iris admits. 

"I'll go grab some," August agrees. Barry smiles at him sadly, a quiet thank you they both recognise more than well enough by now. He takes Iris' remaining hand in his own and strokes the back of it with his thumbs.

"Don't-" Iris says when he opens his mouth. "Don't apologise again, Bartholomew." Barry huffs a laugh. 

"I love you," he says again. "I love you both. Very, very much. I hope you know that. I hope I've done everything I can to make sure you know that." Iris swallows, trying to push down the tears welling up in her throat and not succeeding well enough. Barry just brings out the feelings in people so easily with his sheer honesty. 

"I know that," she promises. "I love you, too, Barry. Thank you." 

"Yeah, of course we know, cariño," August agrees softly. "I love you, too. You don't have anything to prove to us." Iris nods in agreement. Barry buries his face in her shoulder again and tries not to cry. August nods at her and she nods back in agreement before he steps out to get them something to eat. 

"I think we owe the Flash a drink," Iris jokes. Barry roughs out a small laugh. "What's this? The third time he's saved me now? Do you think he's someone we know?" 

"I don't know," Barry says quietly. "I'm just glad he's watching out for you. I wish you'd be a little more careful." 

"You didn't fall for me because I'm careful," Iris teases. Barry can only begrudgingly nod, reaching to pet her hair a bit before sitting up again. He wipes his eyes as best he can before giving her another sad smile.

"Are you okay?" he asks. Iris nods. "Okay. I'm going to go talk to Cisco and Caitlin, make sure they're right about the rest of your structural integrity being clear. I think Cisco is already working on some designs for a prostheses for you, too. Is that okay?" 

"Of course that's okay," Iris promises. "Thank you, Barry. I know the Flash saved me today but I hope you know that wouldn't mean anything without you and your support. You really are my hero, Barry." Barry nods but he looks like he's going to cry again. 

"Okay," he murmurs. "I'll be back soon?" Iris nods again and smiles as he leaves. 


	3. wally west

Aunt Iris says she's met a good guy? Wally doesn't believe that for two seconds. All she's ever dated is shitty guys, and a few women, and they never turn out to be as good as she says. That's what this test is about; bring them to meet her sister and Rudolph and if they don't go running for the hills, maybe they're a keeper. Wally has yet to meet one of these elusive 'keepers'. He watches from his room window as Iris arrives and with her, her new boyfriend. He's a pretty big guy, broad shoulders and chest and tall as shit. 

He also clearly doesn't have legs which is not something Wally expected. They come to the door, the new boyfriend carrying a casserole dish of something better than his mom could ever make, and knock. It's a few rustling sounds before his mom opens the door and she eagerly exchanges happy greetings with Iris. Iris introduces her to her boyfriend and that's when Wally hears his dad enter the fray. He can tell because Rudolph's the only fucker in this house too dumb to have any form of volume control. 

"What happened to your legs?" he asks loudly and mom swiftly scolds him. Iris' boyfriend is clearly extremely uncomfortable but he takes it in stride and seemingly replies. Wally huffs a soft noise, knowing his mother will call him down soon. He doesn't really want to meet the boyfriend but it's not like he has much of a choice. 

"Wally! Aunt Iris is here!" 

Begrudgingly, Wally heads down the stairs. Iris grins at him happily and he moves in to give her a hug. He does love Iris and is always happy to see her but her visits never go particularly well. At least she seems to have backed off trying to convince his mom to leave Rudolph. He always gets so much more violent after those visits. 

"Hey Wally," Iris greets him warmly and Wally basks in her equally warm hug. "This is Barry, my boyfriend." 

"Hello," Barry says, giving him a little wave. 

"Nice to meet you," Wally murmurs. 

"Here, I'll take that," his mother says, taking the dish from Barry. "Wally, come help me in the kitchen, will you." Wally nods and follows her back to the kitchen.

"Want a beer?" Rudolph asks. So it begins. 

"I don't drink, thank you," Barry replies. That's the wrong answer, Wally can say that right now. Rudolph scoffs, doesn't ask Iris as usual, and follows after them into the kitchen. Iris and Barry settle in the living room for now and Wally curiously peeks around to watch the new boyfriend. He's interesting though Wally isn't sure if that's good or not. Rudolph rifles through the fridge while Wally helps mom finish up dinner.

"Just cause he got fake tits now doesn't mean he's anymore of a woman than before," Rudolph murmurs, exclusively to start problems. Mom gives him a death stare. Their lives would be a lot easier if that actually worked on him. Wally shuffles to the side a little to try to stay on the outskirts of the brewing fight. 

"Iris is my _sister_ and you _will_ respect her," his mom hisses. Rudolph snorts back. 

" _It's_ the reason our daughter's a fuck up, I hope you know that," he replies. Wally makes a face briefly but quickly fixes it so he doesn't draw any unwanted attention to himself. 

"You said we were done talking about this," his mother demands. "You said you'd _try_ to give it a chance. _Wally_ is a perfectly fine young _man_." 

"Yeah, well, maybe I've changed my mind," Rudolph snaps back. "Maybe I don't _want_ -" 

"Is there a problem?" Barry asks suddenly. Wally hadn't seen him move from the living room to the kitchen doorway and it startles all three of them. Mom jumps a little and Rudolph decides not to finish his argument. His dad is a coward, Wally knows that at the end of the day, and Barry is just big enough that he's not drunk enough to start anything yet. 

"Oh, we were just talking," mom assures with a sheepish little wave. 

"Really? It sounded like yelling," Barry replies and he smiles at Rudolph. Is he really going to start something? It wouldn't be a first for one of Iris' boyfriends, that's for sure, but this feels different. Rudolph obviously feels it too because he's not immediately throwing a tantrum. 

"I'll use whatever volume of voice I want in my house," Rudolph assures, proving his point by mumbling it under his breath as he dips out of the kitchen with a beer. Wally looks at Barry unsurely as Barry watches Rudolph leave. How much of that did he hear? He turns back again and offers his hands up. 

"Please, let me help with something?" he offers. "I'm a pretty good cook at home." 

"Oh, well, if you insist," mom says. She gives him something to keep him busy and Barry diligently goes about it. "You're a policeman, right Barry? Iris has had such bad luck with boyfriends, I'm glad she's finally found a good one like yourself." 

"I'm just forensics," Barry assures in amusement. "Fortunately for Iris, I'm not like other guys." 

"Because you don't drink?" Wally asks, more scathingly than he means. His mother gives him a scolding look and he flinches away a bit. It's not that Barry doesn't seem nice and all but he likes Iris a lot and can't stand seeing her with any kind of guy that might turn out like Rudolph. Barry laughs. 

"Because I'm trans," he says, loudly and pointedly enough that Wally _knows_ his dad is supposed to hear. It catches him off guard to hear Barry say it so blandly and out there. Even Iris tends to keep that to herself if she can. Not to mention he's _huge_. Wally never would have been able to tell and, on a second thought, he does have to wonder if that's true or if he's just trying to piss off Rudolph even more. 

"My! So is Wally!" his mother says and immediately, Wally turns dark red. He knows she means well but she really doesn't need to do that. Barry smiles at him. 

"How about that," he replies. The urge to crawl away and die is stronger than ever. Wally _wishes_ he could hope to pass as well as Barry does one day but he doesn't see that happening. Barry and his mother, fortunately, talk about something else while they finish dinner. Iris eventually has enough of Rudolph's company and comes to join them, talking with Wally about his school and projects until he can relax at least a little bit. She's always so interested; Wally can't help but over gush when someone's willing to listen. 

Barry even helps set the table and serve the food, only managing to make Rudolph bristle more and more. He's not even really _doing_ anything but something about his presence just seems to make Rudolph uneasy. Wally is liking Barry more and more by the second. He isn't excited to see what this means when they leave but watching Barry so nonchalantly refuse to tolerate Rudolph or any of the bullshit he says is so deeply rewarding. If he isn't outright shutting down the things Rudolph says, he's ignoring them all together to engage with someone else instead. 

And it just makes Rudolph angrier and angrier. 

Wally gets more and more nervous as the night goes on and he realises Iris and Barry will be leaving soon. As soon as they do, he knows his parents are going to get into a fight and Rudolph is so agitated and so afraid to confront Barry about it specifically, it's going to be a huge blow out. He debates trying to find an excuse for them to stay the night, even if just to by himself some time, but he isn't sure how. 

He's so caught up on trying to figure out how to tolerate the upcoming night, he doesn't realise he's been left alone with his dad until it's too late. Iris and his mother are packing up leftovers in the kitchen and Barry's excused himself to the bathroom and there is no where for Wally to hide. 

"You think you're gonna be like that?" Rudolph asks. Wally shakes his head. "You're not. She's a freak of nature as much as you are." 

"Barry's a guy," Wally says before his stupid brain really processes the repercussions of such an action. He withholds the urge to slam his face against the table. 

"You're not a man," Rudolph snaps at him. Wally tries to reel back but he's not fast enough and Rudolph grabs a handful of his hair suddenly. He doesn't fight it, he knows that just makes things worse, but he doesn't go dead weight, either. Wally grabs his own hair to try to relieve some of the tension and then it's- gone. Rudolph lets him go. 

Correction; Barry _makes_ Rudolph let him go. 

Wally hadn't seen him come back in, just like earlier, he's just suddenly there and grabbing Rudolph's arm in what can only be a painful grip. Rudolph tries to yank away but Barry slams his arm into the table and pins it down. 

"What are you doing?" Barry asks with a smile. 

"Let go of me, you-" Rudolph begins. 

"Because it looks to me, a man who works with the CCPD, that you just assaulted a minor," Barry says before Rudolph can finish. "Did you know my boyfriend's a detective? Iris loves hounding him for stories." Wally moves away tentatively as Rudolph tries with more force to get Barry off and Barry suddenly lets him go, making him fling himself back. 

"You think you can just put your hands on me and get away with it?" Rudolph snaps. Barry ignores him. 

"Wally, do you want to come home with Iris for tonight?" he asks. "August can come stay with you if you want." Wally's heart is racing. Can he just do that? 

"That's _my_ kid and she's not going anywhere," Rudolph barks. This quickly gets the attention of his mother and aunt in the kitchen who come to see what the commotion is about. 

"I wasn't asking you, Rudolph," Barry says simply. "Wally?" As expected, Rudolph swings. His mother gasps in alarm, covering her mouth as if this has never happened before. Instead of a fight, Barry hits him in the nose with his palm and immediately causes him to gush blood. That's enough to startle him out of doing anything else. 

"Rudolph!" his mother says urgently, moving to his side to make sure he's okay. 

"Wally," Barry says again. "Do you want to leave? Iris and I can protect you." Iris has asked him to leave before but what was he supposed to do? Put her in danger, too? And if not danger, if she really _did_ end up killing Rudolph like he's heard her say, then what? He wasn't going to do that to her. But this- _Barry_ \- Wally nods. 

"Please," he says and just saying it washes him with relief. "Please let me come with you." Barry smiles at him. He nods at Iris and Iris quickly moves to Wally. 

"It's okay, Wally," she assures. "You're okay. Let's go get some of your stuff, okay? I'm right here." 

"Make a move and I call CCPD right now," Barry warns. "And don't try to call him in as kidnapped or missing. I've already spoken to the captain about this so every police station in the county knows to call him if they hear from you or about Wally." 

They planned this. Wally can't believe it. He lets Iris walk him to his room and he's in disbelief the entire time he's packing. Iris didn't bring Barry here to 'test' him; she brought him here to help Wally. The very idea floors him beyond belief. 

It's not until they're in the car and driving away that reality really sets in. Barry gives him a solemn look from the front seat as Wally as he tries to wipe his tears away before anyone can see them. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. 

"We're going to work with your mother to get Iris full custody of you," he explains. "Hopefully with her help, we can avoid any court intervention. Once Iris is your legal guardian, we can get you some T, okay? We can cut your hair how you like and get you some new clothes, too. It'll be okay, Wally." 

Wally kind of believes that for once. 

X

"Uh, Barry?" Wally asks and Barry looks up at him questioningly. "Could you help me?" He holds up his shot and Barry sits up a bit better on the couch. 

"Of course," he agrees, taking it. Wally hikes his shorts up a little further and looks away awkwardly as Barry pokes him. 

"Sorry, Aunt Iris usually helps but with her arm-" he murmurs, trailing off. 

"It's okay," Barry assures. "There you go." Wally smiles, taking a second to stick a band aid over the spot before disposing of the needle as usual. With four trans people in and out of the house, they usually look like a biohazard taking the trash out. 

August scared him a little at first but Wally knows that's mostly because August was _supposed_ to be scary. It worked. His dad hasn't bothered him. Finding out August is also trans was not only nice but comforting. Even if Iris' relationship with the two of them still puzzles him a little. They obviously care a lot about each other though so Wally doesn't tend to put a lot more thought into it than that. 

"Oh, they're talking about the Flash," Wally says urgently, spotting the familiar symbol on the tv. "Turn it up, please." Barry laughs but obliges, turning the volume back on as Wally comes to sit at the coffee table on the floor in front of him. The local news praises the Flash for the recent help in putting out a building fire and, immediately after, rebuilding the damaged parts of the building. He's so cool. 

"You really like the Flash, don't you?" Barry asks in amusement. Wally nods.

"Who doesn't like the Flash? I hear they're even talking about having a whole Flash day people like him so much," he insists. "That would be _so_ cool." 

"That sounds like a little much," Barry says. "He doesn't seem like he's doing this for- _Flash days_ or all this fancy press." 

"That's part of why people like him so much," Wally chirps, resting his chin in his hands and letting out a sigh a little more dreamy than he strictly means. Barry can tease all he wants, Wally doesn't have near enough fingers to count the amount of people with crushes on the Flash. "He's just- he's a really good guy, you know? It'd be nice if there were more people like that." 

"Anyone can be a good guy, Wally," Barry assures. "You just have to decide to do the right thing." Wally bristles suddenly and he looks back at Barry who obviously looks a little perplexed at his change in attitude. 

"You're a good guy, too, Barry," Wally says at once. "I wasn't- I didn't mean the Flash is better than _you_." Barry blinks before letting out another deep laugh. Wally flushes. "I mean it. The Flash is great and all but- but he didn't stand up to my dad for me. Without a mask! Or a secret identity or powers or anything." 

"I guess he didn't," Barry agrees. 

"And- he didn't show me it's okay to be trans or gay or _whatever_ I want to be," Wally goes on. "The Flash gets to care about people for a moment and then be gone but you're there for people even after they're okay. You didn't even know me." 

"A long time ago _I_ decided I was going to do the right thing," Barry says softly. "That's it. I could help you, so I did. If there's ever an option to help someone, I'm never going to pick any other choice." Wally climbs up onto the couch with him and Barry moves to let him sit against him. 

"I don't know if I ever thanked you for everything you've done for me," he murmurs. "It means a lot to me, you know."

"I know it does," Barry promises and he gives him a kiss on the forehead. "You don't have to thank me for anything, okay? Not today and not tomorrow but one day, you're going to have to decide what kind of man you want to be, too, and when you do, I just want you to remember there's more men like me and the Flash than there are like your dad." 

"I will," Wally promises with a nod.

"By the way," Barry says. "The Flash is trans, too." Wally shoves away from him suddenly to look him in the face but Barry's grin is as it ever is. He's so honest, it's usually pretty easy to tell when he's lying, but sometimes Wally's not so sure. 

"You made that up," he insists. "The Flash isn't trans." 

"Ask Aunt Iris!" Barry urges with a laugh. "She's talked to him. He told her himself." Wally squints at him suspiciously. 

"Aunt Iris!" 

X 

Wally stares out his hospital window distantly as he listens to the machines he's connected to beep in an increasingly annoying fashion. He doesn't understand why he needs to stay hooked up to them; the doctors said he was fine. Wally looks at the burn marks all along his arms. They still sting a little but it's going away now. The doctors said they'd probably scar permanently but at least they'll look cool. 

He perks up when he hears the door open but immediately deflates again when he sees it's August. 

"How you doin', kid?" August asks. Wally crosses his arms to hide his hands. 

"Fine," he scoffs. "Where's Aunt Iris? And Barry? He hasn't been around since I-" 

"Got struck by lightning, yeah," August says. "He's still having an anxiety attack over that so it might be a little while. Iris is on her way now, she'll be here soon." Wally makes a grumpy noise. He's just ready to be out of here. August comes to sit beside his bed and Wally looks back out the window to avoid looking at the folder he's brought with him. 

"Are you supposed to be talking to me without my legal guardian present?" Wally asks pointedly. August puts a picture in his lap, then another, and another. Pictures of where his accident took place. Wally swallows, looking away again. 

"Wally," August says tiredly. 

"I don't have to talk to you," Wally replies stubbornly. 

"Then _listen_ ," August snaps at him. "I don't know what you were doing with these chemicals, but they _can_ trace them back to Barry's lab, kid. Some of these are list one and two chemicals. If they think he _gave_ those to you, he will go to jail. If they find out he didn't have them properly stored and secured, he'll get hit with negligence _and_ go to jail. They'll take away his license, his clearance, his _job_ , Wally." Wally can feel his lip quiver. 

"This isn't you being some stupid kid," August says matter-of-factly. " _Does_ Barry know you had these?" 

"No," Wally says softly. "I- he didn't have anything to do with this." 

"So you _stole_ from him," August clarifies. It sounds so harsh when he puts it that way but Wally doesn't know how else to put it. "What were you doing, Wally?" 

"I want to talk to Barry," Wally murmurs. August sighs. 

"Everything I've done for you, for Iris and Barry, and you think you can't tell me?" he asks and he honestly sounds hurt. Wally shrinks away a little. He knows August wouldn't hurt him but he's scared. 

"You're a cop," he retorts curtly. 

"I'm your uncle _first_ ," August assures. "The last thing I want is either you _or_ Barry getting into trouble, alright? He will go to _jail_ , Wally." 

"It's stupid," Wally huffs. 

"Try me," August says. Wally looks at him halfly then back again. 

"I- I wanted to be like the Flash," he finally admits quietly. 

"So you took chemicals from a _law enforcement_ lab to do what exactly?" he presses. Wally swallows nervously.

"I was- I was trying to make Velocity?" he confesses. 

"Okay," August says slowly. "I'm going to need more information than that, kid. Velocity?" 

"I saw them working on it in Star Labs, Barry lets me come with him sometimes because he knows I'm into that kind of stuff, you know? They even want to give me an internship when I'm old enough," Wally rambles on all at once. "And the Flash is there sometimes and works with them and I guess they were trying to replicate his speed- I don't know if he knows, it looked like they were trying to keep it secret. But it's supposed to make someone just as fast as the Flash is." 

"You were making drugs?" August asks. " _Meta_ drugs?" 

"No, it's more like- it's more like a bonding agent," Wally urges. "It attaches to your dna at a microscopic level and basically _super_ charges them- at least that's what it's supposed to do! Star Labs hasn't had any luck because they're not accounting for the dynamical flux of human's molecular structure. It's like trying to cover a tire in cement and expecting it to work the same." 

"Whoa, slow down," August urges, holding a hand out to stop him from rambling. "Wally, I need you to understand that you were making drugs, okay? However you want to explain it, you were making something to temporarily enhance you, correct?"

"I- yes," Wally murmurs. 

"Look kid, you're so extremely smart and I know your intentions here weren't bad," August says softly. "But this all looks _really_ bad. Stealing chemicals, making drugs, replicating top secret information." 

"What do I do to keep Barry out of trouble?" Wally asks immediately. "He doesn't deserve to get in trouble for something I did. Anything, please. Just tell me." 

" _Relax_ ," August urges, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Wally. Like I said, I'm your uncle first. I'd do anything for you and Barry just as fast as you would. I'm going to do something about this but I need you to promise me you'll never do anything like this again." 

"I-" Wally looks at his hands again. "I've learned my lesson, August. What are you going to do? You can't- you can't tamper with evidence. If Barry finds out you're crooked-" 

"I'm not going to do anything illegal," August promises. "Just let me take care of it, okay? And tell Barry the truth." Wally frowns. 

"Okay," he says quietly. That's the least amount of punishment he deserves, honestly. Though he does feel the lightning thing was pretty bad karma as it was. 

"Good," August says. He pets Wally's head softly. "I love you, kid. I'm not going to let anything happen to you or Barry or Iris, okay? Trust me." Wally nods. The door creaks open and Iris peers in quietly. August moves, picking up the pictures again and stuffing them back into his folder as Iris comes inside and Barry wearily follows behind her. 

"Hey Wally," Iris says gently. "You're awake. How are you feeling?" 

"Okay," Wally assures. "I've- been better, yeah."

"I'm sure," Iris agrees. 

"It's not fun," Barry says. "Being struck by lightning." Wally shakes his head. No. It wasn't very fun. August touches Iris' arm. 

"Help me grab some food, eh," he murmurs. "Wally and Barry need to talk." Iris looks at Wally briefly, obviously a little curious as to what that means, but she nods and the two of them leave the room. Barry comes to sit beside him. 

"I'm sorry Wally," he says. "I should have been here sooner." 

"No, it's okay," Wally promises. "I'm okay. I just- I did something stupid. Promise you won't be mad?" Barry frowns but he nods. 

"Yeah, of course, Wally," he says. "I promise." He reaches to touch Wally's hand. 

It's like he's being hit by lightning all over again. The screen of a monitor he's connected to explodes suddenly and the power in the room goes out without warning. Wally expects it to hurt, he can _feel_ the electricity in him all over again, but it doesn't. Glass suspends in the air over his bed and noise muffles to silence. Wally's heart is racing faster than he ever thought possible and the burns on his hands suddenly heal brand new. He- he's fast? He's moving so fast everything has come to a stand still. 

Everything except Barry. 

Looking at him in horror. 

Wally's heart races for a different reason. 


	4. leonard snart

Len hums contently to himself as he wiggles his fingers, flexing the joints there, before slowly pulling the window open. He listens and, sure enough, it doesn't alarm. Carefully, he climbs inside the dark museum and looks around for any of the guard staff. As expected, they're all held up in the security room. Len slowly makes his way across the floor, counting his steps precisely as he goes. 

He stops at ten and the smallest, slightest hint of the laser trigger gleams in the dark. Carefully, Len takes the compressed air from his bag, shakes it a few times, and holds it upside down to spray the mechanism. The freon freezes it in a few seconds and he listens attentively for any 'silent' alarms. When there's none, he continues on his merry way. 

Now the only thing standing between him and his diamonds is a stray guard wandering back from the bathroom. Len grabs him in surprise, hooking an arm around his neck and dragging him back into the shadows. He presses his fingers against the man's carotid artery and holds him there until he passes out then zip ties him to the leg of a showcase. Len will be done and out of here before any of the other guards realise he's missing. He resumes on to the side hall and saddles up to the diamond case. 

They're not the big ones or the main show, obviously. Taking the big diamonds never goes over so well and fencing it off would takes years if not longer and you simply _don't_ smash a big beautiful diamond. The smaller ones though? Hardly any security at all and if he _does_ set off an alarm, which he won't, they'll all hoard in the main room before anything else. 

Len feels the bottom of the case for the weight sensor then follows the bump of the cable down to the leg and very carefully lifts it up to cut the wire leading through it. Again, he stops and listens for any silent alarms and when there's none, he continues on his way. Now for the good part. Len pops the cover of the lock open and briefly marvels at the impressive workmanship inside. It _is_ a pretty lock. The new electronic ones always are but they're always the most fun to break, too. 

Setting his kit on the glass carefully, Len begins working it over with a few little tools. 

Movement. Len stops suddenly and slowly turns to look back towards the door expecting to see a guard having accidentally wandered into him. There's a lot of things he can plan for but people usually isn't one of them. When he looks, though, there's nothing there. He looks around further but there's no windows, no cameras, and no people. Yet he can't shake the sensation of being watched. Len knows right there he should ditch what he's doing and bolt for it but without any hard proof that he's been caught yet, he's not eager to do that. This is a good plan; things have gone exactly as planned so far. He's not going to abandon it for a sudden feeling. 

He resumes his lock picking. The feeling intensifies. Len ignores it. 

"Oh, I get it. It's like Operation except if you touch those sides, you go to jail." 

Len internally _screams_. 

He turns to look over his shoulder and a smiling masked face looks back at him. This is, by far, the _worst_ case of 'wrong time, wrong place' Len has _ever_ had. The Flash doesn't chase criminals like him. The Flash puts out fires and stops armed robberies. Len has a hot flash of this place suddenly being in an armed robbery while he's doing a completely different job and getting hit with an armed robbery charge instead of grand theft. That's the last fucking thing he needs. Slowly, Len goes back to his lock picking. 

"Smart," he replies in a much too delayed fashion. He can still get out of this, he's sure of it. He'll just have to distract the Flash with something. "And since I haven't touched the sides-" he flips the case open and gestures to it dramatically. "You can't take me to jail." The Flash actually- claps? 

"Whoa, you're good at that," he compliments. Len is, admittedly, a little confused. 

"Thank you," he replies, unable to help giving in a little to the stroke of his ego. There's suddenly a handcuff around his wrist. Dammit. 

"However, I don't do the jailing," the Flash says with a grin. "I just hold you on citizen's arrest until the police show up." All of Len's insides revolt when he's suddenly moved from one spot to another at super speed. His senses swim and it takes him a moment to readjust once he's still again. Looking up, he realises Flash has handcuffed him to a metal statue. Unfortunately he didn't pick a marble one. The Flash has also disappeared. Len hears an alarm go off. 

So there's definitely no saving this job now. Fucking Flash. Len hurriedly takes the lockpick out of his sleeve and hastily tries to get the cuff off his wrist. The angle leaves something to be desired but after a few seconds- he no longer has a lockpick. 

"That's cheating," the Flash says, waving his lockpick like a naughty child. Oh, sure, but him moving like _that_ isn't cheating? Len wants nothing more than to throw a dramatic tantrum the size of which this city has never seen but he manages to cool his anger and frustration. He's more elegant than that. The Flash moves around the museum, tripping alarms like an idiot as he passes in and out of wherever he wants. It's hard to really quantify how fast he's moving, Len only sees a blur of him now and again.

Some stuff is dropped at his feet in neat little baggies. Evidence. Of course. 

Len hears the police sirens closing in and honestly, he expects the Flash to fuck off and leave him to the cops, giving Len at least the briefest of windows to still get out of this. He doesn't. The Flash actually _stays_ and _talks_ to the police. He's definitely either actually a cop or used to be one. No one who isn't a criminal knows police procedure this well. 

Unfortunately, Len feels like he's going to have a lot of time to unravel this mystery. 

X

There are a lot of things Len can plan for. 

People aren't usually one of them. 

It was a good plan; a _simple_ plan. He and Mick distract Flash while Lisa and Rosa hit the safe. Straight forward, _simple_. Except Len didn't plan on the owner of said safe to be so paranoid, so _unhinged_ , that he'd be willing to destroy the contents of said safe before having them be stolen from him. There's no sign of the explosive from the outside and Len only realises it's there when it's too late and he hears the very distinct mechanism click as Lisa opens it. 

Every feels like it slows down and he has to decide, right then and there, what he's going to do. He has no idea what it is or how big it is. He has no idea if Lisa or Rosa have realised it yet. He doesn't know if she'll be able to survive the reaction or if it's worth the risk of hitting the safe with his cold gun and her with it. He doesn't know if Mick has realised and doesn't know if he'd react if he has, potentially elevating the danger. He doesn't know if the Flash is going to deter him from doing something to save his sister's life. 

Len doesn't know what happens. 

It's shrapnel. Makes sense; the contents could potentially still be saved even if the chances are slim. An honest explosion would destroy everything. It's also small but extremely compact. Len catches a few pieces and Mick a few more. Lisa is thrown away from the safe in a heap and Rosa is knocked off her feet hard enough she takes out a table with her. Instinctively, Len dreads the worse as he rushes for Lisa's side, Flash be damned. 

The shrapnel should have torn her apart at that distance and there's blood, definitely, but not nearly enough for the kind of damage that thing was trying to do. Lisa grips her upper arms in pain but she's moving- she's alive. When Len rolls her over, she's uninjured even. A few scratches and a few shards of metal but hardly anything to think about. She hisses in pain, though, and Len tentatively pulls a hand away to see her arm. Her suit has been _burned_ away around her upper arm and the skin is dark purple already with intensive bruising. Len can see the lightning scars already forming. 

He doesn't see the Flash. 

"Let's go!" Mick barks, hoisting Rosa up over his shoulder to haul her off. He's right. This wasn't according to plan and there's no point risking any more unseen circumstances trying to salvage whatever's left. Len helps Lisa to her feet and pulls her arm over his shoulder to help her move faster. They head out the front, it's safer than potentially tripping any other alarms. Or traps.

Flash hasn't gotten far. There was blood, Len saw it, but far too much to be from the small injuries Lisa has. They all stop dead on the front step and stare at Flash on his hands and knees down on the sidewalk. His back is _littered_ with shrapnel and he's bleeding all over the place, soaking into his red suit and leaving pools underneath him. Len is struck with the sudden realisation that Flash could have _died_ saving his sister. He heals fast, sure, but Len is certain even he can't heal from _death_. If that blast had happened faster than he could withstand, it truly could have killed him. It _would_ have killed Lisa. Flash looks up at them, breathing hard and obviously trying not to pass out. 

"Flash-" Len begins. Flash is gone, leaving only a pool of blood behind. 

"We gotta go," Lisa says urgently. They seperate; Mick taking Rosa one way and Len leading Lisa another. It's easier to lose the cops that way. 

Once they're in the clear, they regroup at their usual bar. It goes unsaid that no one blames Len for the mishap, except maybe Len himself. There was no way he could have known that was there; there was no physical signs of it and the owner hadn't previously shown to act in such a manner. He'll learn to be more paranoid in the future. 

It's only after they've all cracked open a beer that Lisa says anything- that _any_ of them say anything. 

"You think he's dead?" she asks quietly. There's a moment of silence. 

"No?" Len replies but honestly, he's not even sure himself. He's seen the Flash take some serious injuries before and be completely fine in a couple days. This surely isn't any different. 

"Why-" Rosa begins. "Why did he save you? Us? That- I don't understand. The Flash _hates_ us." No, Len doesn't understand either. 

"I-" Lisa says. "I don't know." Her arms are still a mess with the damage his lightning did but she's alive. Alive is always better. Truth be told, Len was also under the impression that the Flash wouldn't do them any favors. He doesn't kill, no, but to actively get himself seriously injured, or even dead, to save one of them? That's not heroic; it's just stupid. 

"Cause he has rules," Mick gruffs. They look at him. "What? He does. We haven't broken any of his rules so why'd he want to see us dead?" That's actually a pretty good point. They don't kill either, it draws too much heat. Maybe occasionally, in extremely rare situations where the person definitely deserves it, sure, but either the Flash doesn't know about that or doesn't care. 

"What are you saying?" Rosa insists irritably. 

"Flash takes it easy on us," Mick scoffs. "He doesn't hate us. He _likes_ us." 

That- no, that doesn't make sense. 

But he hadn't even hesitated. One second he was fighting with Len and Mick with sheer focus and the next he was saving Lisa. There was no thought there. There was no hesitation that if he saved Lisa, they would get away. Len isn't even sure he thought about _himself_ before he acted or what kind of damage it would do to him. Is Mick right? Flash _likes_ them? Why? He goes out of his way to stop them. He makes a point to gloat over their capture and arrest. He- 

"He's playing our game," Len says. He puts a hand over his eyes and drops his head back. " _He's so stupid_." 

"You put on a giant parka, made a super villain gun, and called yourself Captain Cold," Mick says. "Heatwave, Golden Glider, The Top. He _knows_ our names. He knows who we _are_. He doesn't hunt us. He doesn't hurt us. He's visited Len in _jail_." Lisa buries her face in her hands. 

"He _is_ stupid," she murmurs. "We're _also_ stupid. Len made us his super villain rivals! He's just entertaining us! _God_!" 

"I feel insulted," Rosa says mildly. "And also weirdly flattered?" Len rubs his eyes tiredly. He's not really sure what to do about this right now. He's not sure what this means exactly or if the Flash was working off the assumption that they knew this too. Or even that the Flash himself realises this. 

He's hated the Flash for a long time and honestly, he's not even sure why sometimes. It always felt like the Flash just thought he was better than them and that pissed Len off so _much_. A man who thinks he's better than someone doesn't risk their life for that person. In retrospect, he thinks he took a lot of what the Flash did as hostile when in reality- 

God, in reality the Flash is such a _good_ man. 

Like tooth achingly, nauseatingly good. Len just never wanted to believe that. 

"What do we do now?" Lisa asks. Len lets out a deep sigh. 

"First and foremost, wait to make sure he's still alive," he says. "Which he _is_ but he should be up and running around again within the day. He's never down long." 

"Then?" Rosa asks. 

"Then we find out who makes high caliber shrapnel bombs and pay them a little visit," Len says. Lisa and Rose nod in agreement. Mick grins. 

This changes a lot but not that much. 

X

Len has learned a few things about the Flash but the most important is that he has _laws_ and he has _rules_ and they're very different. 

You don't break the Flash's 'laws'. Hard stop. Break one of those and he stops being nice and holding back. Of course, the Flash is also filled with a stupid amount of endless forgiveness, so even those people will usually be given second changes if they put up a good enough apology, but it still goes without saying that the Flash is a _terrifying_ force to be reckoned with when he wants to be. 

His _rules,_ however. Well those are a little more flexible. 

As much as it irks Len, those rules flex in both directions. Flash's 'malicious compliance' has bitten them in the ass more than once. Annoying but Len can respect him for it. It wouldn't be much fun if they were the only ones bending the rules. And the Rogues have gotten _very_ good at bending Flash's rules. 

For example, Flash doesn't actually seem to care if they steal from the rich. Sure, he's obligated to try to stop them and even pursue them and he will still arrest them if they get caught but his own statute of limitations means if they 'get away', he doesn't follow up. Plus, he's thrown them in overnight more than once for something that probably should have gotten them at least a court date. Len certainly has no problem stealing from the rich; they're usually the ones with the stuff, after all. 

So they just have to get away. 

"We have a change in air pressure," Marco alerts. "He's incoming." Perfect timing. Len can time police response because they function as a system, timing the Flash has been slightly more tricky. His speed can flux from day to day and he has a nasty habit of being late. Probably from stopping to save kittens from trees or something. Len nods at Rosc while he and Mick take their positions to brace themselves. 

They've been doing this long enough now that Rosc has his timing down to an art. Just as the Flash shows up, he starts his spin, not giving Flash the time to stop before he's trying to neturalize Rosc's momentum. This means that Flash hasn't had a full moment to see everything happening and Rosc also doesn't cause too much collateral damage. Flash runs in the opposite direction that Rosc spins, trying to drag him to a stop, but Rosc changes direction on a dime and uses Flash's momentum to spin even faster. 

Flash isn't capable of changing direction near as easy and in the brief moment that he digs his heels in to do so, Rosc suddenly switches back. The sudden force of the momentum change is enough to rip Flash off his feet and while he's trying to recover, Mick jumps him. He pins Flash down with his heat gun while Len prepares to counter. Flash's suit keeps him from actually burning but it's less about burning him and more about making him hot. 

Excited atoms means unpredictable movements means Flash isn't going anywhere fast. 

And when Mick's gun kicks into cool down, Len is on top of it. He hits Flash's legs before he can do anything, freezing them in place. The sudden change in temperature shorts out the warmers in his suit and makes Flash jolt harshly. He has to catch his breath after that one. 

"Okay," Flash says. "That was pretty good. You guys are getting _way_ too good at working together." Len grins. 

"All thanks to you, Flash," he assures. "You should really tell us when you plan on dropping by like this. I would have worn my nice parka." 

"I think this parka's nice," Flash replies. 

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Len promises mischeviously. 

"Mostly in his pants," Mick comments. Flash flusters some. 

"He's joking," Len assures. 

"Am I," Mick says dryly. 

"Is it getting warm in here?" Flash asks. Len jumps on it, quickly giving him another, lighter hit with the cold gun. 

"Ah! Not trying to go anywhere so soon, are we, Scarlet?" he says. "No, I think you're going to stay right there while we banter today." Flash pouts. 

"And here I thought you were really starting to warm up to me, Cold," he replies. He's still vibrating. Len bumps his gun up to hit him again, trying to stop him from phasing through the ice holding him in place. 

"I prefer keeping a cool head in relationships, thank you," he assures. Flash's suit may stop him from getting frostbite in his legs from the literal colder than cold ice he's trapped in but he shouldn't be able to vibrate consistently enough to warm himself. He shouldn't be able to do it at _all._ In the past, the chill has been more than enough to make him shiver off tempo and make him basically useless. Len hits his legs again to keep the ice from melting while he tries to make him stop doing that. 

"Cold," Mick says in warning. "Do something." 

"I'm working on it, sweetheart," Len replies between teeth. If the Flash has really already learned how to vibrate _with_ his shivers, they're going to need to change up their techniques. He'll admit that while in the moment, Len really _hates_ how fast the Flash learns, overall it's _thrilling_ having to keep up with him. 

But as always, Len just can't plan for people. 

They knew Scudder was jumpy and anxious and they did expect him to do something stupid before the night as done with. The only way to make him less jumpy is by throwing him out in the field and making him get used to it and they just have to accept any mistakes he makes in the process. This wasn't the kind of mistake they were expecting him to make. He comes out of absolutely nowhere and hits one of Flash's legs full force with a crowbar. 

The shattering noise is, by itself, stomach dropping but hearing it _echo_ around the room is nothing short of haunting. Flash goes down immediately, obviously just as startled by this as everyone else. A moment passes. 

"Think it's time to go," Scudder says. Mick grabs him around the collar in both hands and slams him into a wall. Len quickly moves towards Flash, cautious even if he is hurt, and Rosc isn't far behind. 

"What did we _tell_ you?" Mick barks. " _Stick to the plan_. We don't hurt the Flash, you brainless shiny idiot!" 

"Scarlet?" Len says tentatively. Flash sits up and needless to say, looks pretty upset. Still, even for as numb as he would be from the cold, he should be in way too much pain to do much of anything. Len is also pretty sure the Flash can't regrow limbs. Probably. 

"Why would you _do_ that?" Flash asks somewhere between horror and panic. 

"Whoa, calm down," Len tries to ease him. Not because he _shouldn't_ be upset, but because Len doesn't want him to go into shock. 

"He shattered my prosthesis!" Flash yells. Prosthesis? Len glances around and sure enough, the bits that scattered around aren't frozen flesh and bone but some sort of material. "Do you know how hard it is to make a prothesis that doesn't _explode_ when you break the sound barrier?" 

No wonder he doesn't get frostbite in his legs. That's- curious. Ironic, too. The fastest man alive doesn't have a leg? Well, Len is assuming either of them considering the leg not shattered is now sitting at an angle that would otherwise be very, very broken. Flash puts his head in his hands.

"I'm not really sure what to say," Len admits quietly. "Are you okay?" 

"No, I'm not _okay,"_ Flash bites back. "I _need_ that. I can't run _without_ _my leg_. I can't be the Flash without my _leg_ , Snart." Oh, they're deep into serious territory. 

"You don't have a spare?" Rosc asks. 

"A _spare?"_ Flash repeats incredously. "Yeah, sure, there's just plenty of Nth metal laying around to for me to infuse in the exterior weave so they don't rip themselves apart when I reach _mach one hundred and twenty in less than a second._ And I can just find titanium that I can coat in super carbonized steel to make the support structure at the local flea market. Do you _know_ how much titanium costs? Do you think I get paid a lot of money to be the Flash? I have a _day job_." Len's never seen the Flash this distressed. To be fair, Len isn't sure having his prosthesis destroyed is any less harrowing than it would have been if it were his actual leg. 

"We have money," Rosc assures. "How much-?" 

" _I don't want your money_ ," Flash snaps back angrily. 

"Scarlet, I need you to calm down," Len murmurs. "We're going to help- Scudder _especially_ \- but we need to know _how_ we can help. This definitely wasn't part of the plan, okay?" Flash presses his palms into his eyes hard and tries to catch his breath. Mick quietly gestures to the paintings they're supposed to be stealing and Len shakes his head. Stealing anything while the Flash literally is helpless to stop them doesn't quite sit right with Len. Not like this, at least. 

"Okay," he finally says. "Okay. Star Labs should have most of the material I need already. They're not going to be _happy_ but we knew this was a possibility."

"That's good," Len agrees. "Tell us what else you need and we'll get it for you." 

"You mean you'll steal it for me," Flash replies blandly. Len sighs irritably.

"We won't steal it from reputable businesses, how about that?" he offers. Flash doesn't look amused. "We know some people with some _/things_ that would be in their best interest for them not to have anymore." 

"Fine," Flash says begrudgingly. "Only because if I have to get these things legitimately, it'll take weeks at least. I can't- I can't be down that long. Not to mention it'll take me days to even make the replacement." 

"We can make it fast," Rosc promises. Flash sighs but he nods. Despite everything, he does seem thankful. Considering Scudder is the one that did this, the least they can do is help him fix it. Scudder himself, of course, is getting the bench until further notice. Obviously he wasn't as ready for this as they thought he was. 

"Anything we can do now?" Len asks. Flash fixes his other leg, definitely a second prosthesis, and makes sure it's on properly before holding his hand out to be helped up. Len pulls him up and lets Flash lean on him for support. He's not getting far with one leg, that's for sure. 

"Help me home, please," he says. Len nods. 

Admittedly, when Flash said _home_ , Len didn't think he meant _home_ home. Holy shit, they know where the Flash lives now. Len doesn't know what to do with this information except _immediately_ forget it. Everyone else awkwardly stays in the van while Len helps Flash inside his apartment. He lingers by the door, almost wanting to cover his eyes, and Flash takes a moment to take off his remaining prosthesis and put on a different pair.

Then he gives Len a list of materials he needs and tells him to bring them to Star Labs. 

Len knows the Flash is some normal man's alternate personality but there's something weird about having to know the Flash is a real man with a real name and fake legs; not just a pompous hero running around helping moms find their kids. 

And still. 

"I'm sorry for snapping," Flash says. "That was uncalled for." 

Len can't believe this man. 


	5. mick rory

Mick never has plans on being a 'good' man. From the very beginning, he knows that isn't a card he was dealt. Why bother trying? 

He recognizes the guy that's come to visit him in jail. Barry Allen; the crime scene investigator that testified in the case that landed him here. Well, the arson landed him here but still. Mick has no idea why this guy of all people has come to talk to him. No one else has- not the DA, not his supposed lawyer, and unfortunately not Len or Lisa, either. That last one's more on account of them also having gotten bagged and being tossed in the men's ward. 

Where Mick might add, he should be. He likes tiddies as much as anyone else but he's _not_ a woman. Nor is Lisa a man for that matter. 

Allen picks up the phone and Mick stares at him for several seconds before begrudgingly picking up the other side. 

"What do you want?" he asks shortly.

"Um, I'm Barry Allen from-" Allen begins. 

"I know who you are," Mick replies. "Why are you here?" 

"Okay," Allen says slowly. "I, uh, I wanted to talk about your case. They want to give you life without parole for, uh, a long history of repeat offenses. If you work with me, I think- I _know_ I can talk them into a plea deal." 

"Who cares," Mick says. Allen seems a little taken aback. 

"Mr. Rory, you're not a well man," he urges. It sounds- weird coming from him. Mick has been called 'not well' a lot but never like this. Hell, during his entire trial they've been calling him one thing after another but it's less about the words and more about the intention. He doesn't understand Allen's intentions yet. 

But he's willing to listen even if only because Allen is smart enough to refer to him as a man. 

"So?" Mick says curtly.

"So you don't deserve this," Allen says. That catches Mick off guard. "If you promise to get help, the DA will take a plea deal, Rory. You'll still serve some prison time but they'll give you parole on good behavior." 

"Aren't you one of the people that helped put me here?" Mick asks. 

"I'm just forensics," Allen replies. "I just tell people the facts as I find them." 

"Uh huh," Mick scoffs. Allen frowns a little. He holds up a paper and presses it against the glass for him to read. Mick skims it. 

"This is the plea deal they're willing to offer if I get you to cooperate with me," he explains. "Three years-" 

"No asylum," Much cuts him off. Allen looks at the paper for a moment, blinking curiously. 

"You mean the mental hospital?" he asks. "You'd have more freedom there than you would in prison, you know. They'd even let you, you know, _leave_ the grounds from time to time." 

"Don't care," Mick replies. "No asylums." 

"Okay," Allen says in confusion but he takes a pen out to make the correction anyways. "So _five_ years in Iron Heights with counseling and therapy and two years community service. As well as continuing therapy once a week for at least five years. Preferably more if necessary." 

"What kind of community service?" Mick asks. 

"Well, they have you listed as a violent offender so options are a little limited," Allen murmurs. "But we can find you something you like doing, I'm sure." 

"Got me listed as a lot of things I'm not," Mick says sourly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Allen offers. "The DA won't budge on putting you in the men's ward. I'll have to go over his head but I want to make sure we can work out this plea before doing that. I don't think he'll be wanting to do me any favors once I do that." Mick snorts. 

"Fine," he says. "Deal." 

"That easy?" Allen asks. 

"They hit me with aggregated arson," Mick says. "The Snarts only got attempted grand theft. Means they're not planning on pursuing anything serious probably on account of Lisa being a pain to take to jury. Means they're focusing on me. Plea deal's my only way out of this." 

"You're not- at all interested in getting help, are you?" Allen asks. Mick shakes his head. "At least you're honest, I guess. If you don't follow through with your end of the bargain, they will put you back in jail and reopen your case." 

"I know how this works," Mick says. Allen sighs. 

"Okay," he says. "I'll tell the DA you're willing to cooperate. Someone will come talk to you and your lawyer soon." Mick grunts in reply. "I'll leave you alone." 

He hangs up the phone and Mick hangs up the other. During his actual trial, Mick hadn't really seen much of Allen due to having been taking a nap most of his trial. When he gets up to leave now, Mick sees his prostheses. 

X

So yeah, Mick knows Flash's identity the second he says 'prosthesis'. It makes sense, really. The jaws match, the nice butt's match, he obviously disguises his voice as the Flash but their diction is identical; Barry Allen is the Flash. Mick decides to keep this little bit of knowledge to himself. It's not really for him to tell, anyways, and he doesn't really see why it would be important. 

He and Marco get picked to drop the materials off at Star Labs. Marco is still new enough that he hasn't been made and Mick has been known to work with the Flash from time to time on account of the Flash making sure he keeps up with his therapy. Which Mick does. Even if his therapist is a pain sometimes. Marco, fortunately, is less jumpy than Scudder. He's content to sit in the passenger seat and read his pretentious literature while they wait for someone to come let them in.

"You ever read any good books?" Mick asks. 

"This is a good book," Marco assures. Mick reaches over to push the book up enough to read the cover. He scoffs in disagreement and Marco looks at the cover himself before looking skeptically at Mick. "Have you even read this?" 

"Not a chance," Mick says. 

"Then how would you even-" Marco begins. 

"Well if it isn't Heatwave," Ramon calls as he finally comes out of the building to let them in. Of course it had to be Ramon. Before Mick can roll it up, he comes and props himself right in the driver side window with a sucker in his mouth and a smile. "Here to steal more of my designs?" 

"I didn't steal your design because it sucked," Mick replies. 

"Well if that's the case, when're you gonna let me see the schematics for your heat gun to prove it?" Ramon asks pointedly. 

"For the last time, nerd, I don't _have_ schematics," Mick says in annoyance. "That shit's for science geeks like you. And no, you can't take apart my gun, neither." 

"And for the last time, I don't believe you built that thing _on the fly_ ," Ramon replies. Mick stares at him coldly. 

"We're just here to deliver stuff for the Flash," Marco finally cuts in, peeking past Mick. Ramon looks at him back again and then takes a step back to look at their van. He gives them a questioning look. 

"Did Flash not tell you how much of anything he needed?" he asks. 

"Better more than less," Marco assures. Ramon gives them a suspicious look. 

"Alright, open up. Gotta check the back, and _you_ , before you can come in," he explains. "Been having some security issues lately." Yeah, because Allen can't run without his leg right now. Obviously they don't want to risk anything happening. Mick grumbles as he gets out and pops the back of the van open. A security guard gives both him and Marco a pat down while Ramon checks the back. 

Once they're cleared, Ramon waves them inside the roll up door- through a meta field Mick notes. He's sure that's more of a safety thing considering they're well known to not be meta. Some nerds in lab coats begin to unload the van while Ramon gestures them to follow him into the lab. 

"Barry Allen is working on the project right now," Ramon explains. 

"The CSI?" Marco asks curiously. 

"One of Barry's many talents," Ramon assures. Many, _many_ talents for sure. Mick snorts a noise. As they approach his lab, Mick can already see someone inside with him. Allen seems a little fed up which is surprising but he's also clearly working on his prosthesis which, needless to say, he probably doesn't want to be distracted from. 

" _Hartley_ ," Allen finally says firmly. The other man hushes suddenly. "Thank you for your input but I do actually have to build this to the Flash's schematics. It's bad enough that it broke in the first place, this really isn't the time to be changing things without stress testing them." 

"Because Star Labs is well known for adhering strictly to sound scientific methods," Hartley replies. "The Flash would thank you." 

"You know, this is really something you should talk to Cisco about," Allen encourages with a smile. "He handles all the prototyping anyways. I'm here just here to follow schematics." 

"You _know_ Cisco doesn't _talk_ to me," Hartley scoffs. 

"Boy, I _wish_ that were the case," Ramon says loudly as they enter the room. Hartley crosses his arms with a soundly unimpressed expression. "Barry really doesn't need you doing your flirting dance with him right now, Rathaway. Don't you have something else to be doing?" 

"We do need the room, I'm afraid," Allen agrees. "Flash business." 

"Right," Hartley says mildly. "Whatever. I'll go talk to Wally. At least _he_ appreciates good engineering." He hops down off Allen's desk and brushes past Ramon to leave. Ramon closes the door behind him and then hits the button for the shutters.

"I swear, Wells reassigned that guy down here just to spite me," he insists. Allen, however, smiles at Mick and Marco instead. 

"Thanks for bringing the materials," he says. "I've been working non-stop on whatever I have on hand so this is perfect timing. Should just be a couple more days." 

"How is the Flash doing?" Marco asks. Mick rifles around his pocket to pull out the little clear box with the thingy majig in it. He sets it on Allen's desk and Allen grins. 

"Oh, thank you. He's- okay," Allen assures. "Obviously a little stressed from not being able to run but he'll be fine." He's really got this whole act down to an art, doesn't he? Mick is kind of impressed but then again, these masked heroes always think of their personas as completely separate people. Which is definitely still weird. 

"Have you worked with him a lot?" Marco prods.

"Are we playing twenty questions now?" Ramon asks. "I thought you were just here to drop stuff off?" 

"Cisco's a little nervous about strangers in the lab," Allen promises. "Don't worry about him." 

"Yeah, we'll just pretend they didn't steal my schematics the last time they were in here," Ramon scoffs. Allen gives him a disapproving look. "Alright, alright, I'm leaving. Panic button _is_ under the desk. Nothing funny, got it guys?" 

"I'm shaking," Mick says sarcastically. Ramon scoffs at him but, nonetheless, leaves the room as well. Finally. Allen huffs a laugh. 

"Really, thanks for this," he says again. "I checked again to see if the lab could get these things on shorthand and it still would have taken a month for the synthetic silk weave alone." 

"It was no problem," Marco promises. "And- kind of fun. Besides, we still feel really bad about what happened. We never intended for anything like that to happen to the Flash, I hope he knows that. Scudder is just-" 

"An idiot," Mick says. 

"I don't think the Flash is holding an grudges," Allen assures. "Marco Mardon, right? I don't think we've actually met, yet." 

"No, I don't believe so," Marco agrees. He hasn't been arrested yet. Of course the ideal scenario is he never is but considering their main rival is the Flash, that's not going to happen. Allen offers his hand and Marco takes it briefly. He jerks away hard as soon as solid contact is made, hissing in pain and clutching his hand to his chest. Allen hops up to his feet. 

"I'm so sorry," he says at once, removing his hands from his desk all together. "Something must not be grounded-" 

"No, no," Marco cuts him off, trying to collect himself again. Mick can see the threads of fractal scars climbing up his fingers and arm already. "I'm sure it was me. I, uh, tend to attract electricity. It's okay." Yeah, that's true, but never to _this_ degree. Unless, of course, for some reason Allen's body is supercharged with lightning. Allen frowns. "I'm fine, really." 

"I want Scudder to go to therapy," Mick says blandly. Allen looks a little taken aback. Marco's eyes widen suddenly when he realises Allen also has leg prostheses. "You made me go, make him go." 

"That- isn't really how that works, I'm afraid," Allen murmurs. Marco manages to fix his face before Allen looks back at him. "If he doesn't want to go, I can't _make_ him. And please don't get him arrest to try. With his history, the less he's arrested, the better." 

"Just talk to him," Mick scoffs. 

"Why- do you think he'd listen to me?" Allen asks. 

"I did," Mick says. "The Snarts did. Try." Allen sighs exasperatedly but he nods. 

"Okay," he murmurs. "If you really want, I can see what I can do. I can't promise anything." 

"Mm," Mick grunts back. Scudder will listen. He turns to leave and Marco gives Allen a little bow and farewell in Spanish before following after. Security escorts them out. 

"Was that your way of telling me I should take Len's offer up on therapy," Marco asks under his breath. 

"Yep," Mick replies. Marco scoffs. 

"Is Allen-?" he asks. 

"Yep," Mick replies. "Keep it to yourself. I wanna see Len's face when he realises." Marco laughs. 

X

The Rogues wear their Flash scars proudly. There are two ways people end up with lichtenberg scars from him and that's either breaking one of his laws or being liked. The Rogues are very, very liked. It's like a test now; introduce a new Rogue to the Flash and see how long it takes for them to catch a nasty one. 

Mick's is on his back; a sudden shove to get him out of the way of danger. Len's is the left jaw and part of his neck; he says it was from a punch but Mick knows that's a lie. Lisa, of course, her arms. Rosa has a nasty one on her right forearm; prolonged exposure from having to be held dangling. Marco's right hand and wrist; _repeated_ exposure there. Scudder's hip; don't ask. Hartley's on the back of his neck; he came pre scarred with that one. Roy's still new so they're waiting to see how that's going to go. 

Digger _isn't_ new. 

They're not sure about Digger yet. 

Mick likes looking at them. As well as they work together when it comes to it, when they're at home in their own bar, they're rowdy. Even so, Mick feels the tingle in his back and it's apparent so does everyone else when the mood suddenly lifts excitedly. It's an unsaid agreement that Saints and Sinners is neutral ground; the Flash won't fight them here and as long as they don't 'take advantage of it', he won't apprehend them here, either. If he's coming, he's coming to drink. 

The man that appears in the door isn't Barry. 

There's a silent confusion over the speedster in white that suddenly enters their bar. Mick has definitely never seen this guy before and clearly no one else has, either. With the recent freak electrical storm, however, there's been a lot of speedsters kicking around. None of them have given the Rogues any trouble so far. Instinct says this one's here for trouble.

Marco's eyes widen. Mick sees it. Len sees it. They're moving before Marco even gives an audible warning. Mick grabs Lisa and Scudder and shoves them down. Len gets Hartley and bolts for Rosc and Roy. Marco grabs Digger. 

"Get down! Sonic boom!" he yells. Every glass object in the bar _shatters_. Wood splinters. Unsupported items are flung around the room. Mick doesn't see what happens, he doesn't even see the _blur_ , he just suddenly gets a glimpse of Barry pinning the white speedster against the wall, nearly taking the brick out with the force of their impact. Then they're- fighting? Mick has never seen the Flash move this fast. He didn't know Flash _could_ move this fast. 

Mick feels something at his throat but it's there and gone so fast, he can't fully be sure it's what he thinks it is. Not everyone is so certain. 

"He's out for blood!" Digger shouts. "Run for it!" They're not running anywhere. Immediately, they're all drawing their weapons. Len's gun is thrown from his hand in an instant and Rosc attempts to start a spin but he's no match for the sheer speed the two speedsters are going and he's knocked aside. Mick draws their attention while Scudder disperses himself among the shattered glass. Len covers Hartley while he readies his flute. 

Everything stops suddenly and they get another snapshot of Barry pinning the white speedster to the ground on his stomach. They're both beaten to shit, their suits ripped and torn, and they're visibly out of breath. Mick recognises the speedster in white now, his suit torn more than enough. 

Detective August Heart. 

They're moving again before Hartley can get a tune out, accelerating faster than they can hear. Then suddenly Mick is outside. 

"Whoa, uh, sorry," baby Flash says, holding a hand out to make sure Mick is going to be okay. "Stay here." Mick doesn't have time to say anything before Kid Flash is rapidly moving all the Rogues out of the bar. They don't run but Mick thinks maybe they should reconsider that. This only goes to prove exactly how much Barry pulls punches with them. 

And how much other speedsters might not.

"You want to explain what the _hell_ is going on?" Len demands. Wally hesitates, looking back towards their bar being shredded apart by the two speedsters duking it out inside. 

"I- uh-" he says. Kid looks like he's on the verge of a breakdown. If Barry and Heart are seriously, _legitimately_ fighting like this? Yeah, Mick can understand why. "I don't know," he finally admits. "I don't- Uncle August-?" He grips his head with both hands as he paces trying to figure out what to do. 

"They're coming out," Marco warns. "We gotta move." It's not like they'd get far but Heart doesn't seem to be coming for them. In an instant, both Barry and Heart are gone again. 

" _Shit_ , he's heading for Iron Heights," Wally says. "I got to go!" And he does, leaving the Rogues standing confused outside their busted up bar. Mick's scar stings. 

"Did- did August just try to kill us?" Hartley asks and even he sounds heartbroken. This is exactly why they don't trust cops. Scudder hesitantly comes out of the bar. 

"When did the detective get fast?" Lisa asks mildly. 

"More importantly," Len says. "What other speedsters are out for our blood." 

Once again, the Flash has saved their lives. Learning later what actually happened and the fallout of it only makes the situation sink in deeper for Mick. He knows how much Barry loved August, they all do, and to find out that August thought they were dangerous enough to Barry's health to warrant trying to kill them? To find out Barry had gone straight to blows with a boyfriend he's had for years over them? It makes Mick's chest hurt in a way he rarely feels so intensely. 

They talk about it in their monthly group therapy. Barry usually sits in, he likes to see how they're doing and if they need anything, but he understandably doesn't this time. He just wants to work the pain and loneliness away right now. The Rogues make an unsaid agreement over their usual drinks afterwards though. 

None of them particularly care that Heart tried to kill them. He isn't the first and he won't be the last. They are, however, beyond pissed that he broke Barry's heart. Barry is such a good man, capable of so much forgiveness, and Heart took advantage of that. And will again. 

Unlike Barry, they hold grudges. 


	6. eobard thawne

There's that strange sensation again. Eobard's felt it a few times in his life but he's yet to be able to place it. Today, there's not much time to think about it. He can barely believe his eyes. This can't be happening. This can't be _real_. 

But it is. The _Flash_ is here? Eobard immediately forgets _everything_ he's doing to quickly approach the very lost looking man still in his costume. There isn't anything that would make him miss out on an opportunity like this. He's so excited. The Flash being here? Now? Where Eobard gets to meet him? It _must_ be fate. 

"Flash?" Eobard says carefully. Flash jumps and turns to face him quickly. He blinks in perplexity before quickly recomposing himself. 

"Y-yes," he replies and quickly firms his voice. "I'm the Flash. Do you- did you need something?" Eobard laughs. 

"You just seemed lost," he notes. Flash looks around again before sheepishly rubbing his head. 

"That obvious, huh?" he murmurs. "I- don't exactly know where I am." 

"Well, the future to start with," Eobard assures. 

"That explains a lot," Flash says quietly. This must be his first time time traveling. Eobard gets giddy at the idea that _he_ got to be here to see it. That also explains the very retro costume he's wearing. 

"Don't worry, Barry, I think I can help you get home," Eobard promises. Flash jolts. 

"I- I'm the Flash, not-" he begins. Eobard curiously points back at the Flash statue looking nearby. Had he really not seen it yet? Flash goes eerily silent as he stares at it. He looks back at Eobard. "That's- that's me?" Eobard nods. 

"Of course. You're kind of a 'big deal' here," he explains. Flash's eyes seem to glaze over as he looks back up at the gold plated statue of himself. Eobard waves a hand in front of his face to get his attention again. Flash hesitates a moment before reaching up to pull his cowl off, obviously realising his secret identity doesn't mean much here. Eobard's heart flutters. They have plenty of recreations and restored photos of the Flash, of course, but none of them hold so much as a candle to how sheerly handsome he is in person. Eobard would gladly die happy now. 

"You said you could help me home, uh-" Flash says. 

"Eobard!" Eobard informs and quickly offers his hand. Flash shakes it politely. "Eobard Thawne. And yes. I believe so. I'm actually the lead scientist in Speedforce research. And now that I think about it, the leading historian on your life as well since Carter has disappeared." 

"Okay," Flash says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Could we- could we pull back on the idolization thing? This is still new to me and that whole-" he gestures to the statue without looking at it. "This is all a lot." 

"Of course," Eobard agrees. "Sorry, I don't mean to upset you, Barry." 

"It's okay," Flash assures. "You said you study the speedforce?" 

"I'm the _lead_ of studying the speedforce, yes," Eobard says.

"How did I- get here?" Flash asks. Eobard grins. He really is brand new at this, isn't he? 

"Well," Eobard begins. "You ran so fast you entered the time stream. By accident, obviously." 

"I can do that?" Flash murmurs incredulously. 

"There's _lots_ of things you can do," Eobard insists. "I- hm. I just realised you being here may be bad for the timeline. We should work on getting you back." 

"Right," Flash agrees softly. "So to go back I just need to- what? Run backwards?" Eobard laughs, deep and hardy. Flash laughs with him quietly, clearly realising how silly of an idea that is, too. 

"Not quite," he says. "There's a cosmic treadmill in the Flash Museum. That will be safer and more precise." Flash goes pale. "Oh. There's also a museum dedicated to you and we should definitely keep you out of there. I'll find a way to get that to us. In the meantime, you're probably hungry." 

"Yeah," Flash breathes out in stress. "Yeah, that would be great. Thank you, Eobard." 

"Of course," Eobard replies. "Anything for you, Barry. Come along." The Flash follows him and Eobard is so thrilled, he feels like he's floating. Not only has he gotten to _meet_ the Flash, he gets to help him, too. He never thought he'd get a chance like this. "It's too bad you're so early in your timeline, there's so many things I'd like to ask you." 

"I'm sorry I can't be much help?" Flash offers sheepishly. "You're doing so much to help me, if I can do anything in return, I'd like to." Eobard resists the urge to ask for a kiss and kill any chance of Flash not thinking he's just some weird fanboy. 

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I'd still like to ask you some questions," he says. "Who knows, perhaps we'll meet again later and I'll be able to compare answers." Flash nods. 

"Yeah, okay. I think I can do that," he agrees. Eobard finds a quiet, mostly private place for them to sit and gets them some food, adjusting the nutrition of Flash's meal to ensure he doesn't have a metabolic crash after his run here. Fortunately for Flash, Eobard is quite the connoisseur of food from his era so it's not particularly difficult to put together something passing for his home time. He does a good enough job, Flash doesn't even seem to notice. 

Of course, he's also starving. Clearly he's so new at this, he hasn't even realised his metabolism has changed yet. He's cute. Eobard expected nothing less. He gives Flash a moment to get some food in him before taking out his notepad and placing it on the table between them to properly capture everything. Flash looks at it curiously and his wonder for this eras technology is quiet but very apparent. 

"So, questions?" Eobard asks. 

"Yeah," Flash assures with a nod. "I'm ready." 

"I guess the most obvious would be; why did you become the Flash?" Eobard asks. Flash hesitates. 

"I- I didn't really choose this," he says. "I don't know why I got these powers or even _if_ there was a reason or if it was just some random chaotic chance but- I have them. I have this opportunity to help people and I can't ignore that. I didn't so much as become the Flash as- I don't know, I feel like Central City made _me_. Not in a bad way! I mean more, they put their trust and hope in the Flash and I'm not going to let them down." 

Oh, Eobard's in love.

"No, I can't imagine you will," he replies quietly. There's a statue and museum of him, it's pretty clear Flash is the most successful hero of his time. "You help a lot of people as a CSI as well, you know." 

"I know," Flash murmurs. "And I still do that but the Flash can help catch people the CCPD can't even touch. And if the CCPD _won't_ touch them, Flash can force their hand." 

"Like your mother's murderer?" Eobard asks. Flash winces. "Oh, I- I apologise, Barry." 

"It's okay. I guess that's just- history for you," Flash says with a small huff of a laugh. "Yeah, like my mother's murderer, Eobard. If he's still out there, I can actually _do_ something now." 

"So it's about vengeance?" he asks. 

"No," Flash murmurs and he shakes his head a little. "No, it's not like that. I- he broke the law. He- he broke _me_ for a long, long time. My mother deserves justice and my father deserves to have his name cleared more in death than ever. This- _man_ has to answer for what he did." Eobard nods. 

"I understand," he agrees. "Laws in your time are just different than they are here. It's curious to see the difference and the lengths that you'll pursue them." Flash laughs. 

"Murder is fine in this time?" he asks. Eobard laughs with him. 

"No," he assures in amusement. "That is still very much frowned upon even now. Vigilantism is a crime in your time, isn't it? Should you pay for that?" Flash is quiet for a moment. He adjusts uncomfortably but he nods- which surprises Eobard. 

"If I hurt someone, even accidentally, then yeah, I should," he murmurs. "I'm not above the law but- laws aren't always right, either." 

"How do you distinguish people disobeying the right laws from those disobeying the wrong ones?" Eobard asks curiously. "What makes a man good?" 

"I wish I could answer that," Flash says softly. "Things- change. Constantly." He looks around with an amused sound. "There's nothing that tells you how to be a good person. There's hurdles to being a good person and sometimes, there's no passing them without tripping over them. People make mistakes. People get hurt. Being good is always going to be hard." 

"But it's rewarding? To you?" Eobard asks. 

"It doesn't matter if it is or not," Flash assures. "I don't strive to be good for a reward or accomplishment or- I help people because people inherently deserve to be helped. To be happy. And if I am given the opportunity to make that happen, then how could I ever turn that away?" 

"You really are a good man, Barry Allen," Eobard says quietly. Flash smiles at him. The Flash has always seemed larger than life and it's nice to see that it's true. He's glad he really _can't_ tell Barry anything because he really doesn't think he has the heart to have to tell him about the bad things that will happen to him. 

"Any other questions?" Flash asks. 

"No, I think that's all," Eobard assures. "I have thought of something you could do for me, if you don't mind." 

"Sure," Flash agrees. "What can I do?" 

"Part of what I do as a historian is use old data and estimations to recreate important event scenarios," Eobard explains. "Since you're still new at this, I figure the night that you got struck is still pretty fresh?"

"Well, I was in a coma for nearly a year so I don't think anything before that is 'fresh'," he says. "But I can try." 

"Excellent," Eobard replies pleasantly. "This means a lot to me." 

X

The sensation of the sedative beginning to wear off indicates Barry's 'visit' with him is soon. He comes every week; once a week. Fortunately Eobard has a very good internal clock so he knows Barry has just made this visit part of his usual schedule- give or take his habit of being late now and again. So when Barry enters his room, Eobard is less than surprised. 

Barry approaches him, gives him a little frown that always looks so funny upside-down, and removes his muzzle. Eobard works his jaw briefly before yawning. 

"Morning, Eobard," Barry greets. "Are you ready to talk?" 

"What ever shall we talk about, Flash? Are you Flash today? It's hard to tell at this angle sometimes," he says. Barry sighs but nonetheless, pulls the chair up to sit close to him. Eobard still remembers when Barry was younger. His face has aged now or rather, matured really. He's always been handsome but his defined features are truly gorgeous now. His strong jaw, the worry lines- Eobard put those there. 

"Every time you make this more difficult, they're less and less willing to give you a bargain deal," Barry says. "Being uncooperative isn't helping yourself." 

"So you don't want me to _talk_ ," Eobard assures. "You want me to _beg_." 

"I want you to consider," Barry urges. "I want you to have this second chance." Eobard laughs. 

"Second chance at what? Being _good_?" he asks. "I'm not good, Flash. I'll never be _good_. It is not in my _destiny_ to be _good_ , Flash!" 

"I don't care about your 'destiny'!" Barry barks back at him. He's so cute when he gets riled up. It's been a lot easier to do these last couple weeks. Eobard has to wonder why. 

It's just a matter of time before Barry abandons him again. Eobard can wait out the inevitable. 

"You want to know what makes a man good?" Barry asks. Eobard stops smiling. Does Barry still remember the conversation from when they met? That was so long ago for him, he couldn't possibly. "Choice, Eobard. Making the _decision_ to be good is what makes someone good. And every day you have to make that choice again and again and again. No one is born good. No one is _destined_ to be good. They _decide_ to be." 

"One day you're going to have to admit that you can't save me, Flash," Eobard says in amusement. "And I can _wait_ for that day." 

"You're already far beyond anything I can save," Barry assures. The admission actually makes Eobard's heart sink in a weird way. "I can do everything in my ability to help but this is on you now. You have to make the decision; _you_ have to want to be saved." 

Every week. Once a week. 

If Eobard cooperates with the Flash, they make him a deal. No more sedation, no more suspension. Hey, they might even give him solid food. It's clear Barry thinks of that as a doorway to something more, like one day Eobard's going to show enough repentance that they'll just let him walk. He's an idiot. Eobard will get out of here but it'll be biding his time until he can escape not being released. 

"Fine," Barry scoffs. "You don't want to talk today. That's fine." He pulls a book out of his bag and sits back in his chair to leaf through it. Every week, once a week, for sixty six weeks and counting. Barry begins reading out loud. Eobard knows not to test Barry like this. The reading is- nice and if he wants this one last pleasure he has left to continue, he knows better than to push it. Barry won't be coming around for much longer.

Eobard is more right than he presumed. Barry doesn't show the next week or the week after that. Sixty nine, seventy. No one else visits him, no one else even talks to him. Guards are banned from his cell and the warden, needless to say, doesn't exactly enjoy his company. It's a few weeks of deafening silence where all Eobard gets to do is think and brood as much as he can do either of those things pumped full of horse tranquilizer.

He doesn't think he did anything particularly nasty during Barry's last visit. To drop him so cold turkey without even a threat first, that seems unlike Barry. Did he hit a nerve? 

When Barry does eventually show up for their weekly meeting again, Eobard wants to say something snarky. Ask where he's been and why it was more important than this. That thought all but vanishes when he actually sees Barry. 

"Morning, Eobard," Barry greets and as usual, takes Eobard's muzzle off. Even then, he doesn't know what to say. Barry is _noticeably_ pregnant. This sets a visceral reaction off in Eobard he can't control or explain. He remembers working with Barry's kids in his era. They have their father's face and both are just as smart and just as _stupid_ as he is. He remembers- a very distant feeling before all the hate. 

"Sorry I missed a couple visits," Barry says, huffing tiredly as he sits. He pats his belly softly. "Gave us a little scare there." 

"Everything alright?" Eobard catches himself asking. Barry nods. 

"Healthy as ever," he promises. Despite everything, Eobard knows better than to disturb the timeline so much as to say too much about Barry's children. "Want to feel?" 

"Yes," Eobard says before even he truly realises the implication. He's done nothing for this. Barry has no reason to presume Eobard wouldn't want to hurt him or his children given the opportunity. He's been nothing but uncooperative and mean and hateful from the very beginning. 

But Barry goes through the time and effort to unclip one of Eobard's arms; a process more than long enough to let Barry realise his mistake and change his mind. But he doesn't. 

Eobard makes a decision. 

X

"Barry," Eobard says tiredly. "This isn't your lab." 

"Nope," Barry replies. 

"I have work I would like to do," Eobard repeats, trying to keep from getting too agitated. Barry puts a hand on his arm fondly.

"Eobard," he says. "This is _your_ lab." 

Eobard stops. He looks around suspiciously as Barry turns a name plate around brandishing his name on it. This is not a small lab. If he had ever even considered having his own lab at Star, he would have presumed it would be in a broom closet. Eobard hasn't exactly made a lot of friends. It's not Barry's lab he's given up, either. This is new construction. Star Labs has lots of empty, abandoned space ever since Wells fucked the reactor but still to do this for him? Unimaginable. 

"Wells signed off on it and everything," Barry promises with a grin. "Welcome to your new 'speed lab'." Eobard's still piecing together what this _actually_ means. What do they want from him? Do they think he's on the verge of something they can steal? He and Wells already don't see eye to eye. Barry hands him some kind of remote and Eobard arches a brow at him. 

"A gift," Barry says like the lab isn't already a lot. "We still can't take your collar off like _permanently_ but I've rigged this up so you can disable and enable it within your lab." Eobard touches the band around his neck. " _Only_ inside the lab-" 

"And if I tamper with the mechanism, the power shorts out, I leave the area, etcetera, etcetera, it reactivates," Eobard assures. Barry touches his nose in confirmation. That's just a given at this point. To everyone else, he's still on a very short lease and Barry has to play along if he still wants to claw his way through this. Sometimes Eobard thinks it's worth it. He sits. 

"I have another surprise, too," Barry says and Eobard barks a laugh. 

"I don't think my heart can take much more, Bar," he replies sarcastically.

"Iris and Len and Mick have agreed to let the twins come and run here with me," Barry explains. "Knowing fully well about that." He gestures to the remote. That is- definitely surprising. Eobard doesn't really know what to say. Barry moves to give him a soft kiss. 

"Want to talk about it?" he asks softly. Eobard sighs. Yes yes, it's 'impossible' to know what he's thinking so _talking_ about things makes people less weary of his intentions. He remembers. 

"You believe I deserve these?" he asks. 

"I do," Barry promises. "You have worked very hard for this, Eobard. You have done more than enough to show that you're willing to change and to make an effort to be better. I know this isn't easy for you but I also know how _determined_ you can be when you want something. I'm glad you've put that towards something good. I'm glad to see you _happy_." 

"You think I'm happy?" Eobard asks. Barry frowns.

"Are you not?" he replies. 

"I hadn't considered it," Eobard murmurs. "I- I suppose. Yes." He gets to work on his science in peace. He gets to be around Barry. He gets- he gets to relax without his parents or the council or his own hate breathing down his neck every second of every day of every moment of his fucking life. Barry smiles at him. 

"Everything you need to do your work should be here," he assures. "I have my own work to get done so I'll leave you alone to work. Then maybe lunch? I have dinner with the Rogues tonight and a playdate with the twins in the morning." 

"Lunch sounds fine," Eobard promises.

"Good. When you're ready, we'll make plans to bring Don and Dawn here to run, okay?" he says.

"I'll make preparations," Eobard assures. Barry gives him another kiss on the cheek this time. 

"Good luck with your work," he offers. Eobard nods and Barry bolts off. Once he's gone, Eobard glances up at the ceiling. The field operating his collar is likely up there with nodes defining the boundaries of his lab. Assumedly, it doesn't actually _disable_ his collar but rather forces it to run a new program over it. Disabling it outright would be too risky. 

Theoretically, if he could trick the programming into reversing, he could make it so his collar can be deactivated everywhere _except_ inside his lab. Barry would be on him in a heartbeat, of course, but it would give him enough time to get the collar off for good. After that, well, he could do whatever he wanted. Eobard sighs irritably to himself, fingering the band around his neck as he turns his thoughts to something more productive. 

It'll be interesting to see how the twins run alongside their father. 


	7. bart west-allen

"Wait! Don't just-!" 

He has exactly one shot at this. Well, one _convincing_ shot. If he has to try this more than once, they're going to get suspicious and start asking questions and that's going to be a whole thing. Bart bolts into his grandpa's lab and tackles him from behind in a hug. Barry stumbles forward at the force of it, catching himself on his white board and smearing a large section of his work. Nice. Nailed it. 

"Hey! Be careful!" Wally snaps at him, quickly rounding the corner not far behind. Barry looks down at him questioningly then to Wally in confusion. "Okay, I can explain, just give me a second-" 

"I'm your grandson!" Bart chirps in. Barry only looks even more confused. 

"That's the short version, sure," Wally murmurs, already giving Bart a death glare. Not that he's really stopped doing that so far. Barry squints as he obviously tries to piece together what that even means. 

"Okay, nope, need the long version," he finally says. He's not so opposed to the idea that he's pushing Bart off yet though so Bart takes it and happily basks in the currently one sided hug. 

"He showed up, said he was from the future, said he was your grandson, and then said a bunch more stuff he definitely shouldn't repeat," Wally says firmly. Bart had to prove his identity somehow. It's not his fault Wally didn't want to believe him about the 'easy' stuff. 

"The future?" Barry murmurs. "Did you run here accidentally?" 

"No! I wanted to meet you," Bart assures. "And I can't really- use the timestream like that? That doesn't matter, I used the old fashion way to come visit!" 

"I see," Barry says and finally, he gives Bart somewhat of a hug in return, mainly deterred by the fact that Bart is attached almost exclusively to his back. "I'm sure we have plenty of time to meet in the future, though?" 

"Oh. Uh, yeah," Bart agrees. "Totally. We spend, uh, lots of time together! But, y'know, you're not in your prime then like you are now. I wanted to come run with you!" By the sad look Barry gives him, he's not buying this lie. Before he can push it, though, Bart hastily changes the subject. He tentatively feels Barry's swollen stomach and marvels at the responsive kick he feels in return. 

" _Hey_!" Wally yelps at him. 

"Well, obviously not run right now," Bart assures. "Hey dad! Hey auntie!" Barry gingerly tries to pull Bart off of him and Bart lets him go. 

"Easy, kid," he says in amusement. "I'm definitely not going anywhere fast for at least another two months." 

"Oh what?" Bart huffs in exaggeration. "Is my timing really _that_ off?" 

"Yeah, so maybe you should go home and come back later," Wally insists. Barry gives him a disapproving look. 

"Be nice, Wally," he urges. 

" _Or_ ," Bart hums. "I could maybe stay around here for a little while? If it's not a bother? I really want to check out this time and spend time with you and Grandma Iris and- everyone!" He is also pretty sure he now literally can't go back to his own time, anyways. 

"First and foremost, let's go ahead and not call Iris grandma until we get this all explained," Barry says. "But if you really want to stay, I don't have any problem with that- uh, what was your name again?" 

"Bart! Well, Bartholomew but Bart for short. Named after you!" Bart explains. Wally rolls his eyes dramatically. 

"Bart," Barry repeats. "I have to go talk to Iris and Len and Mick and- _explain_ all this first and see if they're okay with you staying, too. I doubt they'll have a problem with it either but I need to check, okay?"'

"Right. Should I come?" Bart asks. 

"No!" Wally barks. 

"Wally," Barry says calmly. "I think I should do this myself right now, Bart. They might be a little surprised at this." 

"Oh. Okay!" Bart chirps back. "Well Wally and I can handle anything that comes up in the meantime!" 

" _I_ ," Wally says. " _I_ can handle it. You're just here to _visit_ , remember?" 

"If I'm here, I might as well help?" Bart replies curiously. "I'm a speedster too, you know!" 

"Trust me, I know," Wally grumbles back. 

"You know what, Bart, why don't you go explain to Cisco and Caitlin how you got here," Barry suggests. "They should be down in the med lab with Dr. Wells. I'm sure they'll be extremely interested to hear about your trip. I want to talk to Wally for a minute." 

"Good idea!" Bart agrees. He grins excitedly as he heads for the door. Barry looks at the smudged marker on his hand then to his ruined equation before exhaling shortly and setting his marker aside to clean his hand off. He beams as he heads off to meet his grandpa's friends. That's one crisis averted. It's going to take a lot more than that to change the timeline but one step at a time, just like his dad taught him. 

X

Bart carefully tries to wiggle the fuse out of place but it stubbornly refuses. He quickly forgoes careful to pry it out until it finally pops free and he grins on satisfaction. Definitely won't be doing anything without this. 

"Bart," Barry says. Bart fumbles the fuse and urgently catches it before it ends up broken. That would be bad. He turns to Barry sharply, unsure of what to do now that he's been caught red-handed doing something he clearly shouldn't be doing. 

"Gramps!" he replies, trying not to yip. "You- uh- didn't you and Grandma Iris have a thing tonight? Why, uh, why aren't you there? Did something happen?" 

"Nothing happened," Barry promises. "Twins were just kicking more than usual. I couldn't get any sleep last night. Len went with her." 

"Oh," Bart says. Barry comes closer and he holds his hand out expectedly, obviously wanting the fuse. Bart instinctively holds it behind his back. "I was just fixing it! Don't worry, I know what I'm doing, I swear!" 

"You're trying to change the timeline," Barry says. Bart pales.

"No!" he yelps. "That's not- I wouldn't do that! That would be dangerous and stupid and- I- why would I even _do_ that? That's ridiculous!" 

"To save me," Barry says. Bart's lip quivers. "Eobard can sense changes in the timeline, Bart. He knows what you've been doing." 

"Eobard _Thawne_?" Bart repeats. "And you _believed_ him?" 

"He's- trying," Barry promises. "But I think you've just confirmed most of it now, anyways." Bart huffs quietly. As it turns out, Barry is a lot smarter than a lot of stuff gives him credit for but especially emotionally. That wasn't a hurdle Bart was expecting. 

"It's not- it's not just to save you," Bart promises. "Without you, dad and auntie are- they're bad. Grandpa Len and Mick stay in jail, Grandma Iris moves away. I didn't even _know_ about Godspeed! Things are- they're really bad without you." Barry frowns at him softly and reaches to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"Can you _go_ home anymore, Bart?" he asks. Bart shakes his head. 

"I knew that when I came here," he assures. "If I fix things, there shouldn't be anything to go back _to_. That's a good thing!" 

"That's why you didn't run here," Barry says. "The speedforce would have resisted." Bart nods. 

"You're mad," he murmurs. 

"I'm not mad," Barry assures. "A little afraid but not mad. Changes like these _are_ dangerous, Bart. You never know if what you're doing is going to make things worse." 

"I know what I'm doing," Bart insists. "Dad taught me. I've been careful." 

"It's not about if you know what you're doing or not. Time is unpredictable and usually set in a way for a reason," Barry says. He holds his hand out again and Bart reluctantly gives him the fuse. 

"I'm sorry," Bart says quietly. 

"Don't be," Barry replies. "Trust me, I've been there. I just wanted my mother back and instead almost ended the world in a war." Bart reels back in surprise and Barry laughs. He ruffles his hair faintly. "I've made plenty of mistakes, too, Bart. I've been very selfish and thought with my emotions before my head." 

"Things would just be better for everyone if you don't disappear," Bart insists. "Please, just let me do this." 

"I'm not stopping you," Barry assures and Bart lets out a breath of relief. "But I _am_ asking you. If I disappear, it's for a reason, and I need you to let that be. You can still change things by just being here. You don't need to _micromanage_." 

"But I'm not _you_ ," Bart argues.

"No one's asking you to be," Barry promises, petting his hair back. "You're enough, Bart. I know your intentions are good and I know _you're_ good, but this needs to stop before you change something you _can't_ take back." Bart curls his fingers in frustration. 

"Fine," he rasps out. "I- _fine_." 

"Would talking about it help?" Barry asks. "Iris and I are here for you, Bart. So are Len and Mick. And Max. And your friends. You don't have to keep this all to yourself."

"No, Dad was right," Bart murmurs. "I am just another failure." Barry touches his stomach sadly. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, Bart," he says softly. "And I'm sorry you were ever made to think that you weren't enough. I'm sorry something like this fell to your shoulders. You don't deserve any of that." He holds his arms out and Bart can't help but eagerly jump into the hug. He sniffles to stop from outright crying. "We can make sure everything's going to be alright together, okay?" 

"Okay," Bart agrees. "Thanks, gramps." Barry smiles at him. 

"Of course, Bart," he says. "We are going to have to do that later, though. Pretty sure my water broke about a minute ago." 

"Oh! They're early!" Bart alerts excitedly. "They're early! That's new! That's good!" 

"Bart," Barry says to get his attention again, already starting to lower himself down to a more comfortable position. 

"Right, sorry! I'll get Wally!" he assures. 

"Get Caitlin!" Barry calls after him. Yeah, that's what Bart meant, of course. Obviously.

X

Bart is thrilled to finally be able to run with Barry. After a few weeks of recovery, which even Barry objected to, he’s finally out and about again. He’s been down for so long, he’s clearly eager to get back to work. It sounds like he and Wally have worked out an agreement as well, letting Wally handle the Justice League Flash work while Barry returns to his roots and holds down Central City. Bart’s glad that they both seem more than satisfied with his outcome. With the twins here, Barry needs to be around for them anyways. 

That being said, Bart is a little bored of the ‘maintenance’ work they’ve been doing all day. Dad used to always tell him how Gramps was late for everything, how even as the Flash there was never enough time in the day for him. Bart had never really understood how that could be true until now. 

It only takes Barry a couple seconds to fix a window or a minute or so to fix a stair but it takes him five minutes to talk to the woman asking about his newborns and another seven to catch up with the man still trying to get his papers. He can deter a serious car crash so no one gets hurt in an instant but it takes him twelve minutes to calm everyone down, another five to help them exchange insurance information, and another three to make sure the arriving police know where all the damages are. Everyone knows Barry and never, not even once, does Barry tell them he can’t talk right now or that he’s working. He doesn’t just love Central City; he loves its people. 

They spend half an hour sitting in on a trial because Barry promised the little girl he’d be there to make sure she was safe. They spend another ten with her outside of the court room where Barry gives her a high five and they have lunch and candy with her until she’s calm enough to let her mother take her home. 

Bart respects Wally as the Flash, he really does even if his cousin is a little ornery sometimes, but his and Barry’s methods are so strikingly different, it’s amazing. 

Barry’s been on pregnancy leave for so long, Bart worries he’s actually going to keep this up all night but eventually, he does wind down to a stop. Even The Flash has to sit down and put some actual food in him eventually- though Bart is absolutely adoring the little snack bars he keeps pulling out of his suit. 

Which of course is when trouble happens. 

Out of no where, fire erupts out of a building down the block in a massive flume. Barry is on it in a heartbeat, bolting down the street in a blur, and Bart is right on his heels. A flare up makes Bart hesitate but Barry doesn’t, shielding his face as he runs inside to start pulling people out. Bart takes a breath to prepare himself before moving to help. Once everyone is out, Barry bolts around looking for the source. 

“Watch these people,” he instructs. “Medics and firefighters are on their way. I’m going to-” Barry’s thrown aside by a blast of ice chill. Bart jerks, rushing over to help him but before he can check, Barry’s grabbing him and moving them out of the way of another blast. 

“Oh look, he has a little sidekick.” 

“Killer Frost?” Barry murmurs in confusion. He looks up as the source of their fire suddenly vaults off the roof to join the chaos. People urgently flee away from the scene, clearing the streets. “Firestorm?”

“Aren’t they supposed to be good guys?” Bart asks wearily. 

“What are you two doing?” Barry demands. “You could have hurt someone!” 

“Oh what a shame that would have been,” Frost hums back. “Don’t worry, we’re _mostly_ just here to hurt _you_.” 

“Something’s wrong,” Barry murmurs. Yeah, Bart can piece that together. He backs up as Barry moves to shield him with his body. “Go get Flash.” 

“I can help!” Bart yips. 

“ _Impulse_ ,” Barry says firmly. “The two of us aren’t enough. Go get _Flash_.” Bart hesitates. That means leaving Barry here alone and if he’s so sure they need all three of them, that seems like a bad idea. Still, he nods and runs off to fetch Wally. As soon as he makes a break for it, Firestorm comes at him but Barry makes sure he gets away safely. Bart finds Wally and urgently brings him back to the fight. He can count the seconds he's gone; thirty two. 

Barry's down when they arrive. Wally rushes in to help, taking Killer Frost off her feet in a full body tackle, and Bart quickly moves in to start a cyclone around Firestorm. The sheer force of Firestorm lightning back up throws Bart back and Wally rushes to catch him before he crashes. Barry takes his moment of opportunity to lunge at Firestorm but before he gets far, Killer Front knocks him aside with another blast. She turns on a dime, suddenly striking Wally and making him double over in violent shudders at the ice forming against his suit. Bart moves out of the way, leaving several scouts as he goes. They sprint off in different directions and Killer Frost laughs. 

“Neat trick,” she compliments. “Bet I have a better one.” 

Barry’s on top of him before Bart knows fully what’s happening. He feels the sharp pain from his scouts being speared but he doesn’t realise what that means until he sees the sharp, icy spike peering out through Barry’s chest. Dread swims in his chest. 

“Nice shot, babe,” Firestorm compliments. “Let’s finish this.” Barry pulls the ice spike out of him with a quiet grunt before turning back to face their imposture friend again. 

“I’m only going to ask you once,” he says. “Whoever you are, whyever you’re wearing my friends’ faces, leave.” 

“That wasn’t a very nice way to ask,” Killer Frost insists sweetly. She readies another spike. “I think you can _beg_ better than that, Flash." Barry catches the next one she throws, vibrating it in his hand so hard it doesn't _shatter_ , it turns to snow. That seems to put them off guard. 

"Catch this," Firestorm snaps, hurling a fireball at him. Barry doesn't even flinch. Wally, now having more than enough time for his suit to warm him back up, uses an arm to suck the flames towards him and extinguishes it in the airless vacuum. They are not playing nice anymore. Of course, Bart know this is a serious situation but he can’t help but fawn over how cool this this. 

“Be ready with the cuffs,” Wally tells him firmly. Bart nods as he pops them out of his pack. “You good, Flash?” Barry feels his chest, a smear of blood lingering but the hole having healed over and his suit beginning to seal itself closed not far behind. He nods. 

“I did ask,” Barry says. Fights are a lot more one sided once the Flashes have decided whoever their fighting has deadly intent. Know what Bart knows now, he understands better. Barry really doesn’t want to hurt anyone; he’s willing to give them a chance, to find out their motives and decide what their problem is that’s making them act the way they are before he goes straight to injuring them. He won’t maim when he can hurt and he won’t hurt if he can help. Needless to say, most people that advance far enough to actually become ‘villains’ got that way for a reason and playing along is usually the easiest way to ease out of a dangerous situation. 

It still takes a couple minutes to get the anti meta cuffs on Killer Frost and Firestorm, mostly to ensure they’re not hurting anyone or doing too much property damage in the process. Bart is, admittedly, a little confused when Firestorm explodes into two people and quickly cuffs the old man as well. Once they’re cuffed, the only one not disorientated is Raymond. Caitlin is downright catatonic and Stein is much the same. Barry and Wally exchange looks. 

“Impulse, go see if you can find Caitlin and Ronnie,” Barry instructs. “We’re going to get these guys back to the lab to see what’s up.” Bart nods. 

“Can do! I’ll meet you guys there!” he agrees. 

Bart can’t help the uneasy feeling he gets from knowing he doesn’t know what’s going on, either. This wasn’t in the history.


	8. barry west-allen

They can really only watch as the black hole opens up over the city. 

"And there it is," Wells murmurs. "That's bad." 

"That's a little more than bad," Cisco says quietly. "What _happened_?" 

"When I and Jesse came through, we slipped through the cracks using naturally existing temporal points," Wells explains, making a gesture between his hands. "When Zoom came through, he punched a hole between our two universes. The universe doesn't like that."

"Essentially, Zoom ripped a hole through the space and time between universes," Eobard goes on. "As you closed up the other breaches, it put more and more stress on this one until it finally bore so much extra dimensional pressure, it ruptured giving us- a black hole." 

"We need to get that closed," Barry says immediately. "Wally, Bart, let's go. If we run opposite of its natural direction, we can cancel out its suction." 

"It's not that easy," Wells snaps. "You can't just-" 

"Go!" Barry instructs. Wally and Bart rush off. Before Barry can follow, August grabs his arm, jerking him to a stop. 

"Take our collars off," he demands. "We can help." Barry looks at him then to Eobard who gives a curt nod of agreement. He's glad they want to help but he shakes his head, pulling his arm free. 

"No," he says softly. "No, August, Iris is going to need you more than ever, okay? You have to stay here."

"What?" August replies. "What are you-" 

"Eobard, you've already given up so much of your life to me," Barry says. "I can't ask you to do this. I'm sorry, guys. Thank you." Eobard frowns at him as he takes off after the others. 

"What does that mean, Thawne?" August demands. "Get these damn things off of us!" 

"If I could, I would have already," Eobard snaps back. Barry catches up to Wally and Bart, making circles just below the black hole while they try to figure out how to approach this problem. Getting up there isn't so much a problem as keeping traction in addition to not getting sucked in in the process is. 

"Barry and I will reverse the intake," Bart states. 

"No way!" Wally replies. "If anyone's sitting out, it's you pipsqueak!" 

"You're not fast enough!" Bart insists. "If you can't match the g force of it, you're just going to get pulled in! And if you _try_ to go that fast, you're just going to stress your heart!" 

"So what? I'm just supposed to sit out?" Wally barks. 

"We're going to need to close it still!" Bart assures. "We'll need a _massive_ force to collapse the event horizon while it's at a standstill! Our Firestorm's atomic energy should be enough to do it!" 

"There's no way they'd be able to get out of the danger zone!" Wally insists. "That's way too dangerous!" 

"That's why you'll be ready to get them out of there!" Bart answers. 

"The in pull of the collapse is going to be too much! It's more likely I'm just going to get sucked in too!" Wally snaps. They're both a little puzzled when they begin to slow down and Barry accelerates past them. They slow more and more as he temporarily siphons their speed off. He needs the little extra juice but importantly, he needs them to stay put. 

"Barry, wait," Wally calls after him. 

"I'm sorry, Wally," Barry says. "I know you don't trust August and Eobard but please try. Be there for Aunt Iris and try to keep Len and Mick out of jail. For me." 

"What are you doing?" Wally demands. " _Barry_!" 

"I know you're afraid of this, Bart, but you have to trust me that things will be okay," Barry says. "Iris and Len and Mick love you so much. I'm so proud of both of you. You're going to be so good." 

"You're going to open the speedforce," Bart murmurs slowly. "You- you'll never be able to escape the gravity it!" 

"Bart," Wally says softly. "He doesn't plan to." 

No. Barry doesn't. He leaves them behind as they finally come to a stop and bolts up debris to get to the level of the black hole. It's not easy to find traction, that's for sure, but once he gets going, it's easier to keep going. The speedforce fights him the entire time, resisting the sheer force he's putting out trying to not run _into_ it but to pry it open externally. After everything she's taken from him, after everything he's _done_ for her, she doesn't get a say: she's doing this.

And she obviously comes to understand that. 

As he steadily begins to negate the in pull of the black hole, watching debris fall back to earth in heaps, the speedforce begins to open. It's slow at first and it's not nearly as big as the black hole but it doesn't need to be. Barry cancels out the blackhole's suction and then it's a fight, it trying to pull in the speedforce and the speedforce not budging an inch. Barry stops running.

A part of him does hope he can get out of this. 

The black hole tries to suck in the speedforce with such force, instead _it_ gets yanked into the speedforce instantly and Barry right along with it. In the same instant, the speedforce closes behind him. Barry gets to watch as the black hole slowly begins to collapse on itself, unable to stay open within the speedforce's environment. He frowns. 

"Barry," the speedforce says, wearing Iris' face. She has both arms again. Barry has both legs. "Are you ready to rest?" 

"No," Barry says. "No. Put me back." 

"I'm sorry," she says softly and she wraps her arms around him. "You did so good, Barry. You did everything right. I'm so proud of you." 

"Then put me back," Barry begs. " _Please_. Put me back." She rubs his back as he begins to tear up before finally just crying into her shoulder. The speedforce shushes him gently and holds him close. 

"I'm sorry Barry, I can't do that," she murmurs. "It's time to sleep, darling. You have been so brave and good for me. You deserve a rest." 

"My children," Barry cries. "My wife. My family." 

"They love you very much," the speedforce promises. "They want you to rest now, Barry. They won't forget you." 

Barry sobs as she sits with him. 

X

The city builds a monument before Bruce can. 

A little white domed building made of marble with a gold statue of Barry inside. The stained glass ceiling depicts him over the years, in various costumes and places. They don't depict him fighting, that's all Iris asked, that's not how she wants the twins to remember him. By the time they have a service for him, the inside walls are covered in pictures and drawings and letters; newspaper clippings and postcards. It's so full of flowers that no one can move without rustling them everywhere. 

The twins immediately take to running circles in them around the statue, kicking up petals in a chaotic dance. They don't understand yet. They won't for a long time.

The crowd outside is silent. Only a handful of people are let into the building for the service itself; Iris, the twins, Wally, Bart, Len, Mick, August, and Eobard. The doors close behind them so they may have the room to themselves. They've argued a lot over the last few weeks but steadily, things have simmered down to a solemn understanding; a quiet agreement.

They've already had the funeral so this really just feels like a second punch to the gut. 

One by one, they come to kneel at the base of the statue, holding stars and crosses and hearts. The silence is deafening. Even the twins come to sit beside Iris, not knowing what's going on but knowing the somber mood well enough to be anxious. 

"Barry West-Allen was the best man I've ever met," Iris says. "He showed me hope and life and love in a way that I hope will never fade. Everything he did, it was for love. For love of us, for this city, for humanity itself. He was a shining beacon we'll never forget. I love you, Barry West-Allen. I always will." 

"Barry West-Allen was unbelievable," August says. "He put himself into everything he believed in even if he didn't have anything left to give. He'd put aside everything to help one person no matter what, no matter who, they only ever had to ask. I love you, Barry West-Allen. Always."

"Barry West-Allen was the fastest man alive," Wally says. "From the very beginning, all he wanted was to help people and he helped so, _so_ many. He showed me how to be a hero and how to be _good_. I'll never forget that. I love you Barry West-Allen." 

"Barry West-Allen was an incredible boyfriend, amazing hero, and the most hopeful man there ever way," Len says. "He could see the good in anyone and if they were willing to put in the effort, he was willing to help them. No exceptions. I love you, Barry West-Allen. No exceptions." 

"Barry was too good for us," Mick says. "He wanted us to be good not despite who we were but because of who we were. He never asked us to change. He just wanted better for us- for ourselves. Love you, Barry." 

"Barry Allen was forgiveness," Eobard says. "He could forgive anyone for anything no matter how stupid or nonsensical. He made people want to be better. There is a reason people remember him for centuries. I love you, Barry Allen. For centuries." 

"Barry West-Allen was just a man," Bart says. "Who never deserved any of the terrible things he got but that never made him bitter. He bore everything with a smile. He was the bravest man I've ever known. I'll miss you. I love you, Barry West-Allen." 

There aren't tears, not right now. They're too numb and cried out at the moment; putting on brave faces for the crowd outside. Softly, Iris begins to sing in Hebrew. Len and Mick join in and then Wally and Bart. Their voices echo in the room and outside, those that know Hebrew begin singing along in a beautiful, haunting chorus. 

"Satisfied?" the speedforce asks. Barry looks at her halfly and by the time he looks back, things are changing. He watches as his loved ones leave and friends and acquaintances begin to come in to pay their respects, too. Everything passes by like a video on fast forward. Cisco, Caitlin, and Wells. Singh and Hartley. The Rogues. The Justice League. His statue is adorned with gifts and memories and more flowers. 

"No," Barry says. The speedforce sighs. 

"Barry," she murmurs. 

"Put me back," he says. 

"I can't," she says. 

"You keep saying that," Barry scoffs, turning to walk towards her and her stolen face. The novelty of seeing his mother wears off fast when she's keeping him from his family. "I keep not believing you." 

"You overestimate what I'm capable of," she assures. "Without an outside force-" 

"I don't care what you're capable of," Barry says coldly. "Put me back." 

"Sweetheart," the speedforce sighs. " _Rest_. Please." Barry shakes his head, watching the scene begin to play back from the beginning; Iris walking in with Don on her hip, Len and Mick behind her with Dawn perched in Mick's arms. Everything about this feels so cold and distant. 

"The second the opportunity presents itself, I'm leaving," Barry assures. She touches his shoulder gently. 

"It's going to be a very long time if you don't sleep, Barry," she says. Barry shrugs her hand off to watch the scene again. He's been in the speedforce before and he's run out of it before. This time, she doesn't seem to want to let him go. He can't run fast enough with whatever fake new legs she's given him assumedly because they're not _actually_ there. She doesn't _want_ him to leave. 

Everyone seems to think he's some kind of selfless saint but he's not. Barry would tear the speedforce apart to get back to his family. She probably knows that. 

He can't watch his funeral; his family and friends crying over an empty casket. The twins are so happy to see everyone at once and still so puzzled as to why mom keeps crying. They're so young. It hurts Barry's heart that he had to leave them. Sometimes he wishes he hadn't. Sometimes he wishes he had done everything wrong just so he could stay with his family. 

Bart's the only one that believes Barry isn't actually dead. He keeps trying to run into the speedforce to check but for as strong as his connection is, he always falters before he gets anywhere close. Besides, he wouldn't be able to generate enough momentum to get Barry out, anyways- not by himself. It doesn't matter; he'll stop believing soon. The speedforce wants him to believe that his lightning rods just aren't enough to pull him out this time but he knows that isn't true. She's keeping him here. He doesn't know _why_ but he knows she is. 

Rest, she keeps saying. Just rest. 

How can he rest while his children grow without him? While his family mourns him? How can he rest when she shows him things like this? 

X

Peaches are always in season. 

"Do you feel better?" the speedforce asks, now wearing August's face. Barry takes a drink straight out of the wine bottle between bites of his peach. He can almost sort of get drunk here. 

"No," he says. She frowns at him. "Why won't you put me back?" 

"Why do you assume I do this to torture you?" she asks. 

"Because you've been mad at me ever since I tried to save my mother," Barry says.

"I was a little upset, yes," the speedforce admits. "That was a gross misuse of the powers I gave you, Barry." 

"No, it was me being disobedient," he replies. "But you never understood this-" he gestures between them. "Was a _partnership_. You needed me to run. I didn't need you."

"You needed me to be a hero," she reminds him. 

"I needed you like I needed a hole in the head," Barry scoffs back. She laughs. 

"I see you're still upset," the speedforce murmurs. Barry nods. "If you would just _rest_ -" 

"You'll put me back?" he asks. She sighs.

"I _can't_ do that, Barry," she repeats again. 

"If I rest, then when the time comes some other force will pull me out and you're avoiding telling me that because, I don't know, you want me to learn to relax on my own?" he asks. The speedforce smiles at him sadly. 

"That's complicated," she says. "We're so directly linked to space and time here-"

"Then no, I won't rest," Barry says, cutting her off. He sees a flicker of red off in the distance and he looks back to her blandly. 

"He is very stubborn," she admits. "And stupid." 

"Eobard's like that," Barry replies dryly. 

"I've never wanted to hurt you, Barry," she urges softly. 

"Our track record says different," he scoffs. 

"Is that why you could never embrace me fully? You think I mean you ill will? Or were you just afraid of yourself? That you'd end up like- me?" the speedforce says, smiling with August's face. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a bad speedster," Barry says. "If that's the case, put me back without my speed. Wally is more than capable enough, clearly."

"I can do that even less, Barry," she says in amusement. "You could try to just enjoy your time here? You don't have to rush or worry. There's always enough time." Barry throws his peach pit at her and she gives him a less than impressed look. 

"I'm going for a run," he says. "Why don't _you_ find something to occupy yourself with in the meantime. I'm tired of you taunting me with my family's faces." 

"Please rest, Barry." 

Not on his life. 

He follows the sound of his children laughing. 


	9. dawn and don west-allen

Dawn happily runs out of their classroom and right behind her, Don follows. There are few things they don't do together and everyone else has just learned to have to live with that. August waves them down with a grin and they run over to run circles around him. 

"Frijoles," he greets with a laugh. When they finally come to a slow, he offers a hand to each of them which they gladly take to begin walking home. They bounce along, jumping over every line in the sidewalk and stopping to look at anything they deem even a little bit interesting. August stays with them, of course, just happy to see them so energetic. 

Once their house is in sight, they release August's hands to bolt inside and August runs after them. They know he's a speedster like them but they never see him go very fast very often- usually only when he needs to catch them and usually only when it's serious. 

Don pulls a paper from his bag and they both dart over to mama with it. She blinks curiously. 

"A family tree?" she says. She and August exchange looks and Don and Dawn look between them questioningly. "Well, you're going to need a very big piece of paper, aren't you?" They wiggle excitedly as mama helps them tape together a bunch of pieces of paper to make one big one. The four of them sit on the floor together to work on it. 

"Let's start with you two, of course," she says. They eagerly pick out some crayons to start. Dawn draws Don and Don draws Dawn. They grin at each other and then at mama. "Good job!" 

"Here, we can use this colour for siblings," August says. He uses the purple crayon to write something in the top corner. They can't quite read yet but they recognise certain words like 'siblings'. They use the purple to connect the two of them. 

"So, how about mama next? And uncle August," mama says. They go to work again, drawing her and then August to her left. 

"And this one for parents, yeah?" August asks. They nod agreeably and again, he takes the orange and writes something they don't quite know. More lines are made. 

"Then dad Len and dad Mick," mama says. Don and Dawn shimmy and shake as they go on drawing happily. "Then Auntie Lisa and Auntie Rosa." They have to pause on Rosa, drawing her then looks curiously at one another. With some hand signs, they ask for another piece of paper and draw Uncle Rosc to tape over Rosa, making it easy to flip back and forth between them. They grin. 

"An elegant solution to an elegant problem," August teases. They beam. 

"Why don't we put Bart down as your brother, okay?" mama says. They both hold up fingers to their lips in an amused little 'secret' motion. Mama laughs and nods. "That's right, just our secret. Then, we can put an x here and then Uncle Wally over here, yeah?" August passes them the right colours for the right relationships and the go about filling everything out nice and neatly. 

"You two are going to be amazing little artists, you know what?" August compliments.

"Eobard?" they sign curiously. "Eobard?" Again, mama and August exchange looks. She sighs softly but smiles and nods. 

"Right, Eobard, too," she says. "How about we draw an x here and then put Eobard here." They do so quickly, fitting the x perfectly between mama and Dad Len. 

"Let's not forget the red frijoles," August says, pointing at Wally. "Irey and Jai should go over here. Then you can just scatter the Rogues up in this corner, eh?" They hastily draw their little cousins but before anything else, they point to the new x. Mama frowns a little. They draw more lines to it, married lines and parent lines and dating lines. Mama just frowns more as they point at the x again and again. 

"Dawn," she murmurs. "Don." 

"Did you actually need to do a family tree or are you hustling us into telling you about your dad?" August asks and it's amused but- hurt. Don and Dawn both frown too. 

"Both?" they sign. "Both? Both? Both?" 

"Okay," mama says quietly. "I guess it's time. I wanted you to be a little older but- obviously you want to know now." They nod eagerly. 

"I'll go with you," August promises, rubbing mama's arm softly. "Let's go see Barry's memorial." Mama nods and despite both mama and August looking a little harrowed, the twins wiggle excitedly. 

For the first time since they can remember, they see their dad's memorial: the Flash. They 'oo' and 'aw' over the statue and the stained glass and they look at all the old and worn newspaper clippings and letters and pictures on the wall. August reads some to them when they point them out. Mama just sits at the foot of the statue, looking sad and longing. They come to sit with her eventually and August kneels on the other side. He takes the rosary out of his jacket pocket and holds it in his hand while he rests his head against the cool stone base. 

"Your father was a very good man," mama tells them quietly. "He did very good things and he loved you very, very much. He loved you so much, he wanted to make sure there was a good world waiting for you and he had to go away to do that, okay?" 

"Where?" they sign curiously. "Where? Dad?" Mama frowns and she gently pets both of their heads. 

"No where we can visit, sweethearts," she says. "This is- this is boring, though. Why don't we call Bart and see if he and Eobard will take you to the museum. I think you'll like that much more." 

Dawn and Don eagerly nod. 

X

"Dawn!" Don yelps as they fuss over last minute changes to their science fair project. "You can't use a trans IYV cable there! You're gonna bust it!" 

"I'm fixing it!" Dawn replies, snipping her wire strippers pointedly. 

"Just go get the right piece!" Don urges. "You can't just jury rig it!" 

"That's what I'm doing!" Dawn snips back. 

"Get the right piece!" Don insists again. 

"I can't get the right piece!" Dawn bites. "I'd have to get an adapter and that would make it too long and the latency would be totally off!" 

"Then change the whole cable!" Don says.

"I _can't_!" Dawn replies in exasperation. "The other end needs to be trans and they don't make split IYV/RVC half trans cables! That's why I'm fixing it!" 

"Then put the adapter on the other end!" Don shouts. 

"Latency!" Dawn shouts back. 

"You know what the fuck's going on here?" Mick asks quietly. Len shakes his head. "Do you know what language they're speaking?" 

"Interlac?" Len offers curiously. "I can- pick out some words." 

" _Interlac_?" Mick repeats. "Where did they learn _interlac_?" 

"Assumedly, they picked it up from Bart and Jaime," Len murmurs. He watches them in both awe and confusion as they speed build. "They picked up Hebrew by just listening to us speak it so I don't see why they wouldn't have picked up interlac, too." 

"Use the wire cutters!" Dawn yelps. 

"The wire cutters don't do what I want them to do!" Don huffs back, gnawing some wiring with his back teeth. 

"How old are they again?" Mick asks. 

"Ten," Len says. " _Ish_." 

"Damn our kids are smart," Mick murmurs. Len nods in agreement. Eobard comes to stand between them and looks down at what Don and Dawn are doing, a bag tucked under his arm.

"Eo!" Don complains. "Tell Dawn she's wrong!" 

"I'm not wrong!" Dawn retorts sourly. Eobard crouches down and, very carefully, sticks his hand into the machine to rustle around for a moment. The two of them watch him curiously. He pulls out a piece, turns it over, and puts it back in. 

"I told you it was backwards!" Don yips.

"It wasn't backwards!" Dawn shouts back. "It's dual sided, it _can't_ be backwards! You're just ornery!" 

"Then why's it work now?" Don says matter-of-factly. 

"Because Eo touched it with his weird science magic hands!" Dawn huffs. 

"It was backwards!" Don insists. 

"No it wasn't!" Dawn insists. 

"Do you know what's going on here?" Mick asks. 

"They're building Gideon," Eobard murmurs. 

"Waverider Gideon?" Len asks in disbelief.

"An extremely early version, but yes," Eobard agrees. "In my timeline, Barry builds her. I suppose in this one, the twins do. It's still an extremely apprentice idea but that's definitely the beginnings of Gideon. Honestly, I thought Gideon was a paradox only Barry could make. This is interesting." 

"They're making a supercomputer," Mick says blandly. 

"No. A supercomputer would be exceptionally easy for them," Eobard assures. "This is a prototype quantum interface with true artificial intelligence seedlings. This shouldn't have been theorized for another two decades." 

"You can't polarize the flux of the entangler!" Don demands. "You're going to overload the internal timing mechanism in the motherboard!" 

"No it won't! The nth weaving will dispurse the excess and absorb the extra heat so the core will stop melting! Eo tell him!" Dawn urges. 

"Tell her the core keeps melting because she won't use the right cables!" Don insists instead. Eobard looks between the two of them for a moment before looking at what they're working on. 

"This is actually too complex for me," he says. "Theoretically, you're both right but I have no idea how or why. Your calculations, by all means, should be wrong but you've somehow come to the right answers." 

"If we use the right cables, we won't _need_ to disburse the extra energy!" Don says. 

"These _are_ the right cables!" Dawn snaps. 

"How'd they get so smart?" Mick asks. 

"Scientifically?" Eobard says. "Iris' emotional and creative intelligence is astounding combined with Barry's scientific and mathematical genius and both of their innate problem solving abilities, the twins have exceptionally good genes. Adding on the 'nurture' aspect, they've been raised by a _gaggle_ of master engineers and scientists with more than enough affection to offset any typical antisocial behaviors, ergo encouraging further growth. Truly, it takes a village." 

"So they're getting first place, right?" Len says. 

"I doubt it," Eobard murmurs. "The judges won't know how to compartmentalize this." Mick and Len both nod in agreement. 

"We'll go replace the judges," Len says. Eobard holds the bag out he's brought with him and gives it a shake. Don and Dawn are immediately at attention, eyes wide. 

"You need to eat," Eobard says. " _Slowly_. And don't talk with your mouths full." Needless to say, Dawn and Don are more than happy to plop down and have a break with some hamburgers. 

X

The Flash memorial is Dawn and Don's favorite place to hang out. The museum is nice, sure, and they spend more time there than their parents would probably like, but there's always so many people and it's so noisy. The memorial is quiet and typically there's no one here. It gives them time to think and besides that, they like to sit and read the letters left for their dad. 

Most importantly, though, it's nice to get out of the house when everyone's sad like this. They're coming up fast on the twelfth anniversary of dad's death and needless to say, everyone is sad and solemn. It's a real bummer. As much as Don and Dawn would have loved to have really gotten a chance to meet their dad, they don't really mourn him. They never really knew him which makes it easy to embrace the idea that he wouldn't _want_ them to be sad about this. 

He did something great to save a lot of people and he knew exactly what he was doing. Dad loved them and he loved this city and in the end, he gave everything to keep them safe. He wouldn't want them to mourn that. He'd want them to _celebrate_ it. 

The city certainly does. 

The other speedsters always participate, it's a good tradition to honor their dad, but this is the first year they've asked the twins to join in. Both Dawn and Don are anxious about using their speed in a crowd of people like that. Sure, August and Eo and Wally and Bart will be there to ensure nothing happens but it's still worrying. What if they're not as good of people as their dad was? What if he'd be disappointed? 

Don and Dawn exchange quiet looks. 

"Practice?" Don says. Dawn nods. 

"Practice," she agrees. They come to stand side by side, breathing deeply and pulling their goggles down over their eyes. Tornadoes are their specialty, of course, that's how they got the name 'Tornado Twins'. With as much training as they've been doing, it shouldn't be a problem to start a cyclone inside the memorial without disrupting any of the papers taped to the outside walls. All internal force.

If they can do this, perhaps the parade won't be so bad. 

Shoulder to shoulder, they start off at a sprint in sync and very quickly begin to gain momentum. They've been together their entire lives, they're so intune to one another it's no problem keeping pace. The faster they run, the faster they can move. Papers start fluttering violently and they hastily adjust their positioning to direct everything inwards towards dad's statue. 

It feels- strange. 

Right away, Dawn and Don know they've never felt like this running before. It's not a bad feeling but rather, it feels like a _pulling_ sensation. The speedforce has only spoken to them once before unlike with Bart or Wally but this doesn't feel like that, either. This feels so much stronger. It urges them to run faster, immediately forgetting about what they're doing in order to chase that sense of unknown. Papers rip off the wall and get sucked into their air flow in a flurry and old dried petals are whipped up and shredded to pieces by the force. 

They've never gone this fast before but something calls to them to go _faster_. 

The sheer force that comes off the statue throws them back, knocking them off their feet and flooring them instantly. Disorientated, they quickly look at one another to make sure they're both okay before looking back at the statue. Then up further. The stained glass ceiling has shattered but all the pieces stay suspended in slow motion. They awe in amazement. They've never entered flash time before despite eagerly trying. 

Something grabs Don, then Dawn, and suddenly they're outside. They wince as they hear the glass inside shatter against the floor all at once. Mama definitely isn't going to be happy about that. Uh oh. 

"Are you okay?" 

They look up, puzzled by the man look over them. Did he run them out? He doesn't look like a speedster they know. They nod. 

"You-" he says as they sit up. "Don? Dawn? You're- you're so big now." Dawn and Don exchange uneasy looks as the stranger looks at them sadly. 

"Hey!" Mama yelps suddenly and both twins cringe. She found them. She usually does. "What are you doing to my- Barry?" The stranger turns to her and she stops dead, dropping her purse immediately. He smiles at her softly. 

Wait. Barry? Like their dad Barry? 

Awkwardly, the twins peer around to try to look at his face again. He does kind of look like the pictures but none of those did he ever have a beard in. The pictures never really do justice to exactly how big he is, either. Is this really their dad? How? But mama seems sure. Once the stun has worn off, she sprints at him and Barry opens his arms to catch her. 

"It's okay," he says quietly, petting her hair as she sobs against his chest. "I'm so sorry, Iris. I'm _so_ sorry." The twins look at each other again then back to the memorial. Did they do this? Bart and Wally used to talk about their dad maybe just being in the speedforce but after being unable to ever locate him, let alone pull him out, they had ultimately decided that wasn't the case. Maybe they were right after all. 

Mama is too distraught to really say anything. Don tugs of their dad's shirt and Dawn on their mama's, getting their attention and causing them to part a little. Mama keeps a death grip on dad regardless. 

"Are you really our dad?" Dawn asks. Dad smiles sadly down at them and he nods. 

"Yeah," he says. "I am." 

"Are you staying?" Don asks. Again, he nods. 

"I'm staying," he promises. They can't help but begin to wiggle excitedly. Mama manages to let him go enough that he can crouch down beside them and they beam brightly. "I'm so sorry I missed you growing up. I wanted to be there for everything. I won't miss anything ever again, okay? You did so good. I'm so proud of you. I love you both so, so much." 

The twins aren't really sad but mama's crying and dad's starting to tear up so it's hard not to feel emotional by proxy. Unable to help himself, Don flings himself into his dad for a hug and Dawn is shortly behind. Dad laughs as he wraps his arms around them and hoists them up in two armfuls. 

"Look at you," he says sadly. "My beautiful kids. I've missed you so much." 

"We should go tell the others," mama murmurs, trying to stifle her tears again. 

"Others? Is everyone-?" dad asks. Mama nods. 

"Everyone's still here, Barry," she assures and her sad smile is a little happier now. "And more." 

"More?" dad repeats in amazement. "That's _great_." Don and Dawn cling to their dad happily, more than content to be carried as long as he wants to carry them. It just feels- comfortable and warm and loving just like they always expected. Peering back, they spot a woman they've never seen before sitting outside the Flash memorial. She smiles at them and waves. 

"Don't tell me Eobard had a kid." 

"Well." 

" _You're joking_." 

"'Had' might not be the right word." 

Later, dad draws a picture of their paternal grandmother for them. She's very pretty. 


End file.
